Taking a Poop

And by the way, why do we use the verb "take?" Usually when you take, you gain something. But here...well, you know.

I felt the urge sitting at my desk (shitting at my desk, as the Japanese would say - they pronounce "si" as "shi" - it's quite funny when you come across "City Apartments." In my town's case, they really are...) so I wasn't shitting yet but needed too, so I headed off to my regular stall, the one with a western style toilet seat. I took one step into the bathroom and saw that the janitor was cleaning at that moment. It was really quite unlucky because usually the kids have to do all the cleaning around the school and they only do that after 6th hour or before school if they get in trouble for something. (And here "trouble" means they shaved their eyebrows or touched a motorcycle or something like that.) So our bathroom was getting its semesterly cleaning. Great. I'll have to find another western seat.

Now, I don't mind the squatters. They're actually quite conducive for the intended activity; however, I wanted to take a bit of a rest, maybe a nap, so I headed off. I went to the guests' bathroom on the other side of the building, a place that I thought was a duplicate of the teacher's bathroom upstairs. And I think it is except for the space between the front of the western toilet bowl and the divider to the next stall. I didn't quite know what to make of the situation upon opening the door. I had to like, pull my pants down while at the same time start to sit, then slide the whole get-up over the seat, timing everything to come down at the same time so that I fit with pants around my ankles. Having squeezed into this position I now found my legs spread to the point of straining and my nose literally 3 inches from the divider. And I couldn't scoot back any further otherwise I'd miss over the backside.

I started jogging about 3 weeks ago and with it, started stretching too and now I'm really glad. I don't think I could have done it without my recent gains in flexibility. Coming up after business hours was quite the time as well - I celebrated my success by laboriously tucking my dress shirt into my skin tight uniqlo pants. The Japanese didn't account for my Scandinavian muscles when they designed their clothes, and they certainly didn't design that toilet stall for a Western-style toilet. Go inaka.


(PS - That's "countryside" for all you living outside Japan. Which really means, that's for my mom and my great-grandma, the only people who read my blog...lol)


Goodnight. So much for that 10 o'clock thing.

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