For the past two days I’ve taken to diving into the first stall here at work when Baby Head pounds my bladder. Why, when the last stall is so much bigger and more accomodating to my girth? Well, it started when someone I work close with was washing her hands when I entered the bathroom and I was hoping to close the stall door behind me before she realized who I was and I can’t very well keep my secret identity hidden if I’m streaking past a mirror said co-worker is looking into. So, into the first stall I dove.
And I liked it there.
Until now.
When I saw dried blood on the seat that appeared to have had a half-a$$ed cleaning job applied to it. Strangely enough, knowing that the source of the blood was not a random stabbing victim offered little comfort to me.
Back to the handi-capable stall I go.
whenever i feel hungry i should just read your blogs…they generally seem to have some sort of information that is going to upset my tummy
Marcoda Bingmar: Best Diet Plan of 2008
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