Let Me Hear Your Body Talk: I Don't Think This is What Olivia Newton John Meant

This is going beyond TMI. At least, the most I've ever shared on this blog. (I think.)

I'm sitting at work. In the supply closet they converted into an office. I kid you not. In this office there are two desks. One is occupied by me (obviously), the other by my co-worker...Boston, we'll call him.

So, anyway, I'm sitting at my desk. Reading a hiiii-larious blog, minding my own business, and accomplishing next to nothing. When all of a sudden my bowels let loose a sound the likes of which I have never heard. I've been with my body for a long time, through good times, and really, really bad times, and this was unprecedented.

It was a massively loud, gurgle/death growl. I'm pretty sure he heard it too, despite the fact that he is listening to his iPod. It got really silent in here immediately after, and I am generally inclined to believe it could not possibly be a coincidence.

I could tell the gas was a-rollin' 'round the ol' intestines, but since I get off work in 15 minutes, I assumed I could wait to use the facilities until then. My body disagreed. And had had enough. And decided to let me know. Semi-embarrassingly. I think perhaps irritable bowel syndrome is less a physical affliction, and more an emotional one. Though, I can really only speak for my own colon, here.

My first instinct, after my intestinal scolding, was to run to the bathroom, though I knew this would totally blow my cover of pretending nothing had happened. Like my bowels had not just verbally threatened me.

Which is why I wrote this.

Thanks for being my cover guys!