Fie On The Toilet!

At my old job, we had four floors and four bathrooms.  The "basement" and the second floor were communal, with two stalls and two sinks a piece.  The first and third floor had private bathrooms, one on the first floor, and two on the third that were probably supposed to be seperated for each sex but were informally unisex, mostly because the women on the floor outnumbered the men and most of us weren't going to wait for a bathroom to open up when there was a perfectly good open one right next to.  I think the lack of labels all helped in that aspect as well.

When I first started, I had the luxury of working on the third floor.  I say this because the private bathroom was a luxury.  Being able to go in, lock the door, do whatever business you need to do, wash your hands then leave was comfortable and private and exactly how I like my work bathroom experience to be.

About halfway through my tenure, I was moved to the second floor - the floor with the communal bathroom.  And unless it was a dire emergency, I still walked up to the third floor or down to the first.  It was that important to maintain that privacy.

Now, at this job, we have only communal bathrooms.  No matter what floor your on, there are two stalls - a handicapped which is nice and roomy and a small and cramped one that you can barely turn around in.

And I hate it!

Don't get me wrong, I've never been one of those girls who can't potty in public.  Granted, I'm not about to announce my business to an entire crowd or come back exclaiming about a crowning acheivement I just left in the porcelain.  But I take the philosophy that if you gotta go, you gotta go and sometimes, you need to find a bathroom in Wal-Mart.  Or the woods, which I've done my fair share of as well (not for sport, mind you, but camping + beer = trees and leaves since there are no porta potties in sight).

I'd also like to point out that public bathrooms at places like Wal-Mart or a restaurant or an amusement park don't bother me.  Everyone coming in and out are strangers to each other and it is a rarity to find a complete stranger who willingly wants to interact with you in a public bathroom.  And there is a minimal chance that you will ever see any of them again.  And no one is judging you because hey, we all are human and we all are in the same situation.

The work bathrooms bother me.  It's the social stigma of having to conduct very private business in a semi-social place with people who you see everyday.  I don't like to converse with people in the bathroom.  I don't like knowing that someone I see and chat with everyday might be conducting their private business next to me. 

It's the questions.  Will they think I'm rude if I choose not to speak to them?  Do I have to say anything at all?  Are they thinking the smell that here when I came in is me?  Can they tell it's me by my shoes?

Seriously, I get extremely paranoid and freaked out.  When I hear footsteps down the hall, I tense up.  I don't move if someone comes in and I have been known just to hang out in the stall until they leave, even though I was there first.  I've wondered if they can see the my reflection from their stall as they look at the shared polished marble floors.  I've been overly paranoid that they can see through the crack in the door hinge because it's right next to the sink and the toilet in the stall is positioned to where if you are in there, you can look out and see who is washing their hands.  I've been known to put the hood of my little sweater over my head in cases like these, lest they peek through that crack and realize it's me in there.

It sounds weird, I know.  And it really has nothing to do with being embarassed about the act itself but more about the overall invasion of privacy that I feel.  I want to remain anonymouse because I'm so paranoid that someone is going to use that opportunity to inquire about why their email isn't working or whether they can get some computers and a phone set up in the training room.  And the last thing I was is to schedule work tasks while I'm trying to go potty.

Because what do I say later if I forget?  Sorry, I was concentrating on peeing when you asked me that. 

And it would look totally weird if I brought a pen and pad to bathroom.

At my old job, we had a problem with poo being spread all over places that weren't the toilet.  Yes, I know, great story right?  But seriously, it would get on the walls and on napkins the trash can.  And it was kind of gross.  It was a mystery how it got there.  No one could fathom how bad it had to be for it not to reach the toilet.  Everyone assumed it was this older woman in the office who we most likely thought wore the adult diapers and had a hard time cleaning herself up.

The point of telling that rather gross story - and trust me, it was much more awful to be there than to hear about it - is to say that people talk about stuff like that.  And that only heightens my paranoia.  Because I don't want people talking about my private bathroom adventures.  And even now in my office, the guys will come back talking about how someone stunk up their bathroom or how someone else thought it was kosher to start a conversation with them while they were both standing at the urinals.  And us girls know that there is someone who is on a 2pm (or roundabout) schedule and that if you entered the bathroom at that time on any given day, you should probably hold your breath.

Maybe I'm overly paranoid.  Who knows?  I wouldn't even know where to begin to get over this. 

Maybe all I need to do is move up the ladder enough so I can have my own office with my own bathroom.  My boss does and it has a shower in it!

Don't even get me started on taking a shower at work.  That's a whole other level of paranoia.