Please don’t talk to me while peeing.


Girls pee a lot. It’s a common stereotype that I take no offense to, seeing as my bladder is miniscule and I still insist on drinking water (…fine, coffee and Diet Coke) throughout the day while working. It’s a rare unicorn of a moment to find the ladies WC unoccupied by anyone else in the office, which can be frustrating, because I don’t want to socialize in there. I’ll chat it up in the kitchen, by the printer, in reception, in the elevator, pretty much anywhere except the bathroom. Maybe it’s just me, but if I’m walking in there, I’m really just there to get in, pee, and get out. Zero talking required.

Which is why it absolutely baffles me when I walk into a full-on conversation in the bathroom. A few examples of the multiple pee-speaks I’ve been fortunate enough to overhear lately include: a recap of someone’s ‘seriously major’ fight with her boyfriend, two girls having a Frozen sing-along (yup) and a few people discussing what I’m hoping wasn’t proprietary information about an upcoming project. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I think people should hide in a stall and pretend we don’t know what’s going on in there. But full-on conversations? Why does that have to happen while I’m sans pants? Can your hot-button issue really not wait the 30 seconds it takes for me to zip up my skirt and wash my hands?

In the hyper-connected world we live in, I love the rare moments of tranquility. Too often, I find myself alone in my apartment, pretending to relax while simultaneously answering work emails, personal emails, checking social media, reading the news and texting. There are probably no less than 15 ways to get in touch with me at any given point in the day, and the idea of disconnecting for an extended period of time is at best, amusing, and at worst, anxiety-provoking. So especially in the office, where I’m surrounded by people who need things from me at all times, why is it so much to ask for 90 seconds of privacy while locked in a stall hoping the person before me wiped the seat and that I don’t fall in (it’s a legit fear, guys).

I think hyper-connectivity is a wonderful thing. Social media and texting have given us the opportunity to stay connected with friends, former coworkers, acquaintances and more in a way that we couldn’t, and let’s be honest, wouldn’t, if we had to do anything more than post Happy Birthday to their Facebook wall annually and occasionally send a ‘hope you’re well’ text. It’s great that I can quickly send ‘want to hit the gym later?’ to my friend while simultaneously talking to my mother and recalling my always-amusing antics. We may be addicted to iPhones, but it’s given us as a society another layer of understanding about each other, a chance to connect on a more intimate and consistent level than the days where you were limited to phone calls and letters.

But seriously, though.

Seriously, though.

But for the love of god. You can text me, call my work phone, cell phone, work cell phone or home phone, Snapchat me, Instagram me, email me, Facebook me, leave a comment on the blog, GChat me, WHATEVER. Just let me pee in peace.

(Aside: this is now the second post of mine that uses “pee” in the title. End aside.)


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