I may have mentioned before that I am on a diet. A six week, unforgiving, strictly healthy diet. A diet I am actually dedicated to as I know it has worked before and thus will work for me. If nothing else, it forces me to eat better and more often. I'm not limiting calories by any means. I'm just changing the way I intake them. Before, one day I was eating Cheerios and a handful of jujubes. The next day, I was eating three take out meals. Now, I am eating regular meals and regular intervals of things that actually provide nutrients. I have noticed some changes although not on the scale.
The biggest change has to do with my intestines. You may want to stop reading here. I'm going to ruin the mystery.
Since I normally have the worst eating habits a human has ever had, I tend to be a bit gassy. "A bit" meaning that sometimes I clear all the dogs out of the room causing them to run in fear with a look on their face like "OMG WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE." I figure I learned from the masters. Both my brother and my Dad can do the same. Since starting the DIET FROM HELL, I have noticed a great relief (mostly for those around me).
I have noticed one other thing in relation to my intestines. Now, when I have to "go" I have to GO RIGHT THE FREAKING HECK NOW. Let me provide an illustration.
On Sunday, I worked until 5am. I woke at 3pm and figured I should hit the grocery store before it closed so I could actually eat that night. I got up, had my protein shake and scrambled eggs, and went to Sobey's. I had a few items on the list - most fruit and vegetables, eggs and meat. It was itemized and simple. I was prepared.
Halfway through accumulating the items on the list, I had a rumbly in my tummy. "Oh no," I thought, "I have got to go to the washroom". However, there are no public rest rooms in grocery stores, so I soldiered on. I picked up a few more items and the urgency worsened. I wasn't sure what I was going to do. The extra "squeeze your thumbs and pray" I was trying wasn't seeming to work. My stomach growls of protest were growing louder. I was starting to sweat. And panic.
I hurried as fast as I could waddle to the checkout line. The woman in front of me was painstakingly slow. The cashier was occupied with his two buddies who were bagging groceries and everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion. I threw my items on the counter (including the eggs) and perched on the bar separating one till from the other. I waited.
Beads of sweat were starting to form on my forehead. The room was starting to spin. I knew I could not hold on much longer. I swiped my debit card from my perch and waited until the entire transaction had processed before moving. Cheeks firmly clenched, I grabbed my cart and violently swung out in front of people trying for the door. I flew to my car, got my groceries inside and pushed my cart haphazardly towards the cart corral. I sat down and breathed a sigh of relief. And realized I could not possibly make it home.
Now that I was sitting, I realized I could not hold out any longer. I had moments, not minutes before I lost all control. The turmoil of my belly was threatening to make itself public. The sweat was now rolling down my face. I had to find a public washroom. I was two blocks from a Tim Horton's. I threw the car into gear and drove like a mad woman. I squealed the tires pulling into the parking lot and burst from the car. I walked into the coffee shop behind a group travelling across country. A woman in her early twenties was ahead of me, strolling calmly towards the bathroom. I had no choice. I had to follow.
I made it to the washroom and picked a stall two down from the other patron. Zipper down, purse to the floor, relief forthcoming. My bowels released and everything I had eaten in the last 5 years evacuated my body with a speed and force I have never experienced. I thought I would die from the relief and the embarrassment. I could just picture the look on the young woman's face as she sat two down from me and wondered what disease I was surely dying from. Finally, the beast was satiated. I waited (like we all do) for the other woman to clean up and leave the room. As soon as the door closed behind her, I crept from my stall looking around for other witnesses. I washed my hands and braced myself for my entrance.
Then calmly and with determination, I left the safety of the washroom and made a bee line for the door.