Last night’s class was a bit exciting. About half an hour into it ... I felt major gurglings coming from my stomach. I needed to go find a washroom fast but I didn’t want to disturb the class by getting up and leaving. I hate doing that, but its diarrhea. I waited just long enough for our guest speaker to wind up her presentation and I made a beeline for the washroom. I get to the washroom and a cleaning lady comes out and says her cleaning partner will only be a couple more minutes cleaning the washroom.
I knew it was too risky to try and find another washroom so I tried to calm myself and stood at the door. It was only a few minutes before the other cleaning person came out ... and just in a nick of time. I had visions of calling D asking him to bring clean pants to the ladies washroom on the main floor of the college.
My stomach settled down to a dull roar for the remainder of the class. However, as I was waiting for D to pick me up ... I had to race back into the washroom. Can I tell you ... when diarrhea strikes ... it strikes fast and furious.
Yesterday I was reminded of how vulnerable outings can be.
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