pee troubles

Let me start this off by trying to explain why – it’s a lack of trust issue. Simple as that; if I don’t know you, but really know you, then I can’t pee in your vicinity. There are three people (outside of my family) that I trust enough to pee near – and only one I can pee in front of (including my family).

If you are anywhere near the bathroom where there is a remote chance that you could hear me, ahem, ‘tinkling’, then my bladder shuts up like a trap and no matter how full it is, it won’t open up and relieve itself from the pressure of massive pee build-up.

Take yesterday, for instance. I drink about 2 litres of a weird tea concoction during each office day, which naturally means I need to go to the bathroom often – quite a bind for a person with my problem. So, yesterday, at around 11:30, I get up to go to the loo, only to be joined by some girl walking there too. I immediately reroute to the kitchen to get a glass of water instead. I’ll try again later, I reasoned. Come 12:30, and my bladder is about to explode. I go to the bathroom, and this time, make it into the bathroom. (Obstacle number 1 is overcome). Unfortunately, some soul in cubicle number 1’s feet are peeping out at me. Right, immediately reroute to the basins, pretending to need to wash my hands – very thoroughly – while I await her departure from the loo. She doesn’t make a move to budge from the toilet, and I leave in painful exasperation, hating myself for my failure to do something as simple as pee in a toilet. Still not relieved of my pain, I go back to my office (a room I share with 3 colleagues, who wonder suspiciously why I get up to go to the “fax machine”, the “printer”, the “kitchen” or, even, the “loo” all the time). I’m talking major explosive pain here. Then a sparky idea comes to mind – I can go fetch my Canadian and UK cash (upcoming holiday – yay!), which, although too far to drive to without me fainting from the pain of needing to pee first, will enable me to swing home first (1.4 km from the office) and do the deed, unfettered by the interruptions of others. So I did. And then collected my forex.

Right, you’re thinking why the hell I’m telling you this. It’s simple – I realised that for someone to need to go home to take a pee, things must be wrong that need fixing. I mean, in my head. I’m so frustrated at myself – and equally mystified by the absurdity of my hang-up – that I’m telling you all so that I can force myself to go see a psychologist and deal with it (can you imagine the sessions – he/she will say “Now, I only vant to hear von drop”) , so that you can’t mock me next time I’m at your place and ask where the furthest bathroom is.

There, I said it. It’s a load off my chest, and hopefully soon a load off my bladder.