potty talk

I have a problem.

A new(ish) problem.

Not a serious problem, but nevertheless. . .

I can't pee in public restrooms.

Well, I can, but it takes awhile. Singing Come Thou Fount in my head helps a little. Work is the worst, its just a two-seater.

Some call it "shy bladder syndrome," but I like PUA (public urination anxiety).

In mild forms of the disorder, the victim has difficulty urinating in a urinal in the presence of co-urinators, or people waiting to urinate. In those more moderately afflicted, it is nearly always impossible to urinate in a public urinal, with or without the presence of co-urinal users or additional potential urinal users waiting to urinate. In the most severe cases, public urinal use is universally curtailed, even when no co-urinators are present. Isolated by primal fear, the victim wheezes and squeezes and whines and dances, but at most only a few drops will emit from his or her nozzle, and thus defeated, he or she leaves the empty restroom ashamed, alone, and unable to find relief or fend for him or herself.

While I'm on the subject of public restrooms, let's go over a few more DRC's Rules for Life:

#34: No inter-stall conversation. You do your thing, I'll do mine. If we must acknowledge each other it will be while we wash our hands or something else in the sink/mirror area, but never while one us us is behind that door.

#60: Germs are everywhere, get over yourself. Put a little TP on the seat if you're worried, or hover if you are able, but don't whine about it. I am not afraid of a grungy toilet (as long as its flushed). I'm quite proud of my squatty potty skills and I'm more than willing to use a men's room if the wait is outrageous for the women's (and yes, I have used a urinal when another girl beat me to the stall).