Bathroom breaks

Since apparently this is the week of "revelations you could have done without", I wanted to spend today's blog talking about how much I love going to the bathroom when I'm at work. I really do, honestly. Before you all start asking, no, I was not potty-trained at an abnormally early age, and I also never had any Freudian issues with going to the bathroom either. Going to the bathroom at work for me just equals peace, serenity, and warmth.

Now I do need clarify what I'm talking about when I say "bathroom". On our campus we have two types of bathrooms, one mainly for students, and one mostly used by faculty. The student bathrooms are the quintessential American public bathrooms with stalls. For those Dutch readers who have never laid eyes on this creature, allow me to enlighten you.

A typical American bathroom has, like any European bathroom, anywhere between four and ten toilets. But unlike its European counterparts, where each toilet is in its separate room with walls that go all the way from the ceiling to the ground, American toilets are separated by thin metal walls that start about two feet off the ground and end a little ways above your head. Each individual stall comes with a rickety door that never closes just right, leaving a tiny little gap through which all bathroom users could technically keep an eye on the goings-on on the other side of the wall. Although, rest assured, most Americans are far too polite to do so. However, what this does translate to is that everyone in the bathroom can hear what you're up to, and admire your shoes and socks while you're doing it. They can hear what you're doing, how long it's taking you, and how much toilet paper you're using. Now call me overly critical, but for a country that freaks out when little six-year old girls don't wear a bikini top at the pool, or that finds discussions about armpit hair completely inappropriate, this seems really, well, odd. We don't talk about leg hair, and we dress our little girls like they're four going on eighteen, but it's really OK to hear whether other people or not remembered to eat their prunes the night before? Let the record state that I'm not a prude, but I do struggle with that contradiction just a hair.

Admittedly, when I'm in a bathroom full of strangers, I don't really care all that much. I don't know them and won't ever see them again. But when I'm at work, I find it very disturbing to have a student recognize my shoes and holler out "Hi Doc!" while I'm, well, doing my business. And actually, just the thought that students can hear me freaks me out beyond belief.

So I've taken up the habit of walking a little bit further and using the faculty bathroom instead. This is a set of bathrooms which are their own separate rooms. Each bathroom has its own toilet, sink, and little table with fake floral setting. And let me tell you, I like going there. In fact, just thinking about having to make the considerable trek to that bathroom makes me happy. So as I was enjoying myself the other day, I asked myself why? I mean, for God's sake, why do I like going to the bathroom?

And thankfully for you, dear reader, and my own peace of mind, I figured it out. It's because it's the only place I can go where I am left alone. There are no students waiting outside my door. No computer with its annoying pop-ups to constantly remind me that people want to get in touch with me. No phone. Nothing. It's quiet. And even better, as these bathrooms are a few hallways down from our department and its arctic climate, the temperature is actually really nice too. And what a better way to spend a few minutes, than in a quiet, serene, and warm little room you have all to yourself? All I would need is a book and I would never leave.

So if you lead a crazy life, just find a bathroom and take a break. It works miracles.