Every so often I have to excuse myself from my desk to go to the bathroom. This occurs two to three times a day, depending on how much water I drink (which is interdependent on how hung over I am). That reminded me to get a glass of water, by the way. I prefer when the bathroom that has only two urinals and one stall is empty. When it isn't it is just such a small and confined/awkward space. I am not claustrophobic but I am xenophobic (not really, but kinda) when in a bathroom. I like to do my business and get out. I hate when people feign small talk when you are holding your dick. Honestly, if you don't have the need to tell me when my hand is not wrapped around me genitals, then why do you feel the urge to break the silence when I am? This situation is made worse by someone being in a stall and doing a shout out, more or less. What's worse still is when someone is on the phone in the bathroom.

This rant is brought about by my most recent trip to the lavatory. While I was there there was a gentleman in the stall making heavy breathing noises. Who in the world gets winded when they take a shit? I was trying not to giggle, but that would have been the most appropriate response. Breath as heavy as you want when no one is in there, but when someone enters try and bottle that shit up, pun intended. I took extra time to wash my hands so I could see the gentleman who was making such a ruckus. I timed my exit perfectly, just as I was leaving he was exiting the stall and I flashed him the slightest hint of a smile. My smile said: I know you breath heavily when you shit you gross man, :)

I've been taking ten minute breaks about every hour to go walk around outside and enjoy the fresh air, really makes working not so bad. Neither does my daily screwdriver, but today the unthinkable happened...I RAN OUT OF ORANGE JUICE. This could have been easily prevented but I was foolish and squandered my OJ. I debated just taking a shot of vodka but in my denial of being in alcoholic, decided this would be a step to far. I don't HAVE to have a drink, but I prefer one. It's kind of like my policy when I fly, I don't have to have a drink on the plane, but I prefer one. It is always imperative that I have some cash on me when I fly so I can get my two screwdrivers and then a Heineken. The trick here is to convince the stewardess that you can have one more and because you know your limits that is why you are just having a beer. I do this for two reasons; the first I enjoy drinking and the fun that ensues. Second, I like to watch people around me react when I have a couple of drinks in a short amount of time. Some smile, some shun, and others are just curious. Small spaces make people weird.

I bring this up in light of me purchasing a plane ticket. I bought another ticket to Phoenix to go visit my friends and for my brother's 21st birthday. Should be a whole mess of fun. I am not flying out of Steamboat this time though, I'm going to drive to Denver and fly from there which saved me about $230. Stupid small towns. I chose Southwest despite the FAA violations because you can't argue with cheap. This puts double meaning in cheap for SW, but since they don't have any major accidents I'll take that risk, albeit it's a minimal one. Who knows, maybe I will even get a card from them saying how sorry they were for putting my life into jeopardy. I envision two scenarios if the plane does crash,

A) I survive and instantly become a tragic celebrity who boozes heavily with all the money the airline gives me to erase the horrific memories of the crash. I spend my time foolishly buying material objects to compensate for my emotional and gradually withdrawal from society until I am forced to go to rehab where I will ultimately learn to volunteer my time/money.

B) I die and someone I care about gets a big pile of money. Guilt eventually forces said person to go through scenario A.

Ding.