I count when I pee.
You read me.
I've done this ever since I was little, and I still do it.
I don't know why I started and I couldn't tell you why I haven't stopped but it never fails that when the cheeks hit the seat, the inner clock starts ticking.
Wait. I take that back. I do know why I started counting my pee.
For some reason, it was always fascinating to me that when I held it for a while, I could go for record breaking times.
And, like any good nutbar, I would tell anyone who would listen of my latest high.
And I got cocky about that shit, too.
I remember being in the car with my parents and feeling as though the Coke I had hours before was filling my kidneys and backing up into my eyeballs, but being so excited because I thought I could go for more than sixty seconds once my ass met porcelain.
When we got home, I ran inside and started the timer.
When I came out, I looked at my parents and my boyfriend at the time and announced with a great deal of pride, "One minute and seventeen seconds."
I was probably 18 years old.
18 and awesome.
This came to mind because last night, I woke up with a fierce need for the loo.
Half asleep, one eye open and my pajama pants on sideways (don't ask me how I do this, but it happens every night), I peed for 29 seconds.
I remember waking up this morning and thinking to myself, "I peed for 29 seconds last night."
Who does that?
I do that.
So, the next time you take pause to let nature do her thing, think of me.
Then count your pee.
Then laugh.
Then explain to your partner/co-worker/roommate/gynecologist what it was about the toilet that made you giggle.
It'll be a fun conversation, I promise.
Showing posts with label Peeing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peeing. Show all posts
Friday, February 19, 2010
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