Rumination on Urination

Do you ever have to pee so badly that it ends up being all you’re capable of thinking about? The longer you wait, the worse it gets.

It’s almost like my whole body is saturated in the urge to pee. All that I am is one full bladder ready to empty out. The urge is all I know. The urge becomes a need. The need becomes a physical pain. 

The pain is so strong that I can barely type these words. What I’m really doing here is attempting to distract myself from the pain of needing to pee.

Where’s that fucking rest stop? Why is this road so shitty? OMFG. I’m going to die. I can’t stop fantasizing about the sweet release peeing will gift me with.

Look, I know it’s crazy, but I totally just drank some more water because I’m trying to stay hydrated and I’m sure we’re going to stop soon. Right?!? I’m an idiot. That’s what’s up. We’re never going to stop. 

Gonna shake my leg. That always helps. Pee dancing like a boss. How bad is it to pee yourself at 37 years old? It’s really not that big of a deal. I’m sure people do it all the time. All the time. Because being an adult is hard and sometimes you piss your pants. 

Can you die from holding in your pee? It feels like I’m dying. Seriously. It feels like my bladder is going to bust open piñata style inside me. Honestly, I’m ready to die now. I’ve had a good run. It’s whatever. I’m so tired of not being able to pee. I’d rather die than spend another minute in this intense, soul crushing, crippling pee pain.

Never mind all that. Here’s a bathroom. Yes. So much yes. Fuck yes. Sweet relief. Praise all the gods. It’s a great time to be alive. 

Just for you, I took a picture of the mosaic mural in the rest stop bathroom. Everything is better in Texas. Seriously. Even the bathroom art.

  

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