Just one look at you

"... and I know it's gonna be a lovely day."

A Bill Withers song that couldn't be farther removed from the truth yesterday, although I wasn't looking at anybody in particular to quantify that song having some meaning to me.

I woke up feeling cold and tired, and went into the bathroom for the morning pee. When handling the toilet roll, it falls out of my hand, and straight into a toilet bowl now filled with urine.

Great start.

Off I go downstairs for some breakfast. Did I miss the bowl with both cereal and milk? You betcha.

In the three minute walk from the car to the office, I manage to get attacked with approximately three-hundred gallons of water due to the torrential rain.

I then spend most of the day concentrating on one small part of what should've been an already simple task. I look at the clock, and it reads 10.00am. I look at some work, and look back. 1.00pm. Hardly any ground has been made. I look again - 5.30pm and I have to get home.

Sometimes you know from the outset that your day isn't going to be filled with accomplishment, and it's not always your mindset that convinces you of this. It's the fact that you dropped a toilet roll into a toilet full of pee.

Sliproad shenanigans

We've all been there, and we've all thought about possible exit routes. I'm not referring to the sliproad however. I'm referring to the point where you're absolutely dying for a pee / poo, and you're wondering where the hell you're going to get rid of it.

I was taught a lesson in zero self-shame just the other day on my way home from work.

When exiting the sliproad off of the motorway toward the Town where I live, traffic becomes dense. This is because there is little skilled work available within the Town, and people have to commute to the City to find a job. Living outside of the City is favourable however, because of bigger and cheaper housing.

Queues to come off at this junction range between nothing to two miles long.

Whilst sat in this queue of traffic, a gentleman exits his vehicle from the passenger side. I see that the driver is still sat in the queue. The passenger walks over to the motorway barrier, and stands against it, back facing the road.

I immediately know what he's up to. He's taking a slash on the motorway. In front of an entire sliproad of traffic.

The traffic that was once stationary however, is now moving a little. He shuffles along in time with the car, whilst still in full flow, I can only assume.

Traffic speeds up. So does our urinator, only now, he's briskly walking along the sliproad with a stream of urine leading the way, appendage out for all to see. Traffic moves faster. He zips up, and walks back toward the car.

The traffic is now past a crawl. He breaks into a run. It's a race against time to get to the car before the driver gets to the motorway roundabout.

I think the car got about 6 car-lengths back from the traffic lights before it came to a stop, and the passenger got back in.

What I wouldn't have given to see that tosser left on the sliproad of a motorway having just displayed his wang to the general population.

Sometimes things aren't meant to be.

The morning pee

It's one of those things cherished by man since time began. I myself feel like my day has begun after dragging my knuckles in a caveman-like fashion into the cold tiled floor of the bathroom and expelling some urine.

The trouble with the morning pee is that it's inevitably strong, and by the time you're finished the toilet bowl is an entirely different colour to when you started. Bright yellow / orange is not uncommon.

It was only last Saturday that I indulged in the usual past-time of going for the morning pee, and in the usual fashion (Ladies may or may not be aware of this, and dudes may or may not do it) I grab a bit of toilet paper to ensure a dry appendage and prevent cough leakage. cough

Unfortunately, today's morning pee was to be anything but routine. I finished the pee, and reached for the toilet paper as I do every other morning, except that this morning produced radically adverse results.

I knocked the toilet paper without actually picking it up.

The roll isn't a full roll, but it's got a fair bit of paper left on it, and it'll go for the rest of the weekend between a family of five.

It's tilting forward, and all I can do is watch utterly dumbstruck and numb as the toilet paper teeters over the edge of the cistern, and tilts toward the edge.

I watch in slow motion as the roll falls from the cistern and bounces around the toilet seat, almost teasing me. It circles the toilet seat before rolling off of the seat, and into the bright yellow / orange bowl.

A conscious look of horror engulfs my face as I realise what is taking place.

I am given an ultimatum.

I can either reach in and get it now, or I can watch it disintegrate and block up the toilet, causing even worse results.

The choice is a simple one. I reach into the urine-infested toilet and drag out the (now yellow) toilet paper, rinse it under the sink to rinse it off, dump it in a bin-bag, and take it outside.

A loo roll, and my confident ability to flush out the morning pee are now both dead.

Sometimes you just know that your day isn't going to work out.