a hippy chick

At around 3:00 today, the only time I remembered to use the bathroom–the following thoughts ran through my mind in rapid succession:

We need music in here.
I wonder if anyone can hear me?
We really need music. Maybe a fountain! I’ll make it out of slate and copper and use those cool river stones…when I get some money. Of course I won’t be working here when I finally get some money.

What did the Jews do when they needed to poop and they were all cooped up in their secret rooms hidden from the Nazis? Did they just let it go and apologize to the others for the stink? Did they hold it and get really sick? Did they lose their bowel functions because they didn’t eat enough?
Am I nuts for thinking about the Holocaust on a Tuesday in Virginia?
Why does Mr. A’s off-again on-again girlfriend keep reading my blog?
Man it stinks in here. I need more fiber in my diet.
Is it normal to have running dialogue with yourself while pooping?
I really need to bring the Preparation H wipes in. But then someone would steal them and I can’t handle that right now.
I’m going to be single forever. My poop stinks way too much. And I think about Jews being tortured in the middle of a bright sunny day while I’m pooping. And my heels are just awful and I’ve got to find some time to exfoliate.

Consider this my public service from me to you. At least in reading how crazy I am you feel a little better about yourself, dontcha? Happy Hump Day manana!

P.S.  No, I don’t know why the comments don’t work!