Luck be a ladies' room

 

I could be mad about being forced to come back to the physical workplace for no valid reason. I could be mad about having to spend my days soaking up asbestos in a dreary basement office and dodging cockroaches as I pick my way through the cluttered storage room that doubles as a kitchen mini-fridge station. I could be mad.

But how could I be mad, when I work in a building that has at least four women's restrooms!? When you work in a building with four restrooms, you're spoiled for choice! You're literally flush with options!

Whenever nature so much as whispers, you can answer the summons in any of three vastly different directions, entering a choose-your-own-adventure world limited only by your imagination! ...And the probably-finite number of restrooms.

To be perfectly honest, I have not made a full exploration of the sanitary options offered by my building, and so cannot say for sure just how many restrooms there are, or whether indeed the supply is limitless. But I can say that my journey of discovery has unearthed no less than three ladies' rooms that I employ regularly to the benefit of my worktime productivity.

It is oft said that low morale hampers motivation, but it can surely not be said that my morale is at any risk, as long as I have unfettered access to the smorgasbord of restrooms in my office building! Oh, the variety!

There's the OG main bathroom, with the most privacy out of all the restrooms. It has 2 regular stalls and one handicapped stall, so it's unmatched for providing personal space, and there's a single sink in a little alcove that I enjoy when I want to brush my teeth in solitude. I used this bathroom exclusively my first year on the job, until one day I noticed a coworker making frequent trips across the courtyard.

A brief investigation led to my rediscovery (I say "re" because this is the bathroom I employed when I was having wardrobe malfunctions the day I interviewed for my job) of the little 2-stall bathroom at the other end of the building. While the main bathroom will always hold a special place in my heart, the little bathroom boasts an indispensable full-length mirror in case I need to check my outfit before one of those valuable, frequent, and extremely necessary in-person interactions I'm always having at least once every 4 months.

Between the OG and the Little bathrooms, I happily divided my attention for years. The Little soon became my favorite because of its mirror, and also its location, which affords me a quick jaunt in the outdoors as I cross the courtyard to reach it. But on the flip side, it is right next to a classroom and gets clogged with students during breaks, so the main one with its three stalls was usually a safer bet.

Then one day, a little niggling discontent led me to a grand discovery. In my building (with two parallel wings and a main corridor between them), there are no bathrooms in my wing. There is a men's room just around the corner, but the nearest women's room on my floor (the OG bathroom) is almost twice that distance from my office. I was jealous of the men, and during one of my lazier days, I began to question whether it might be preferable to walk up to the second floor, where that coveted spot just around the corner is occupied by a women's room. Climbing the stairs would probably be better for my health and less time-consuming than walking all the way to the main bathroom or the little one, so I now use this bathroom more than any of the others.

The bathroom upstairs really has nothing to recommend it. It has three small stalls, one of which is usually blocked by the main door, and two of the toilets leak from the base, so there is always water on the floor. The other toilet constantly flushes when you're sitting on it. But this restroom is an option if you're ever trying to escape the crush of students between classes, or if your Fitbit is reminding you that you still need to climb more stairs today.

You could climb even more stairs and get to a treasure trove of other toilets! For example, I know there's one on the top floor—the dimly lit floor with the dormer windows that looks like it could double for Bastian's attic hangout during the scariest storm scene known to cinema...but then again, maybe three bathrooms are good enough!

Enough? No, three bathrooms are a gift! A blessing! No way I could have that kind of luxury working from home! How else could I experience the joy of relieving myself in cozy companionship, with only a thin metal slab between me and my nearest partner in pooping? And how else could I have one of those vaunted informal hallway conversations—you know, like the last one I had, about 3 years ago, wherein I was informed how great my pants were—that are the lifeblood of our college's mission? It would be impossible.

So I'll luxuriate in my wealth of options, dwelling in the possibilities, maybe changing my mind on the way to one bathroom and choosing another, because that is the kind of self-indulgence you can only afford when you are fortunate to work in a building with multiple restrooms. Luck truly is a lady—or rather, a ladies' room.