Thursday, February 02, 2006
The 11.16 Pee
When I was young – way before I became a 34-year old fart – I loathed people that lead a completely unoriginal, repetitive and predictable life. You know, dragging yourself to the same office every day, doing the same repetitive job tightening nuts and bolts or dragging documents from one stack of paper to the other. I vowed this would never happen to me, I would lead a rich and varied life and become the very epitome of originality.
Despite having a career that involves occasional travelling to strange and exotic places, I must confess that I spend the very large majority of my time dragging documents from one stack to the other. I too have become a slave of reports, memo’s, proposals, budgets and the like. And when I finally do escape from the office, my trips very rarely – if ever – include searching for hidden treasures, fighting pirates, flying on dragons, discovering strange worlds where time stood still, kissing beautiful princesses and savagely taking away their virginity while they’re chained to the wall of a dark dungeon with a rubber ball stuffed in their mouth.
As if to rub the monotonous predictability in to the point where I get blisters, my bodily functions have started to take on a very strict routine. More precisely, this has developed into a clockwork-like urge to pee at the exact time of 11.16 PM. Not 11.13 or 11.18, but exactly one minute past quarter past eleven in the morning. You can set your watch to that. A minute earlier, and I’m happily working along without a worry on my mind. On minute later, my bladder threatens to explode under the enormous pressure my kidneys start to generate in a matter of seconds. And don’t think I can postpone it for a minute; a huge tidal wave would flood the city if I didn’t make it to the toilet within the next thirty seconds or so.
More annoyingly, several of my colleagues in the building seem to have a similar problem, although it seems their bladders are less accurate than mine. So every time it’s a race upstairs to the toilet in the hope that this time, they’re late and I get to occupy the toilet before someone else does. This race does add a bit of suspense to my daily routine but…
…I’m sorry; we’ll have to continue another time. Writing this has set some things in motion. I have to pee.