it's sort of comforting to know that no matter where you are, whether things are looking up or have taken a turn for the worse, however your life may be going, you're never immune to ending up in a situation where you're in danger of shitting your pants. no matter how educated, or rich, influential--no matter how fancy your pants are, they aren't impervious to catastrophic bowel movements in the wake of food poisoning, or poor dinner/drinking decision-making, or when the stomach flu pops in to say hi.
no matter how much i change over the years, every time i'm trying to outdrive my impatient and distressed bowels while being mired in SoCal afternoon traffic, for example, it feels exactly the same. i think to myself "not this shit again. heh. shit. SHIT, this sucks." I bargain with God to show mercy. I eventually accept the possibility of shitting myself, and make frantic back-to-back drafts of contingency plans. i try not to give myself an aneurysm when, having made it to my own neighborhood, i end up behind a car that is going 15 mph for some reason. i tell myself that speeding in a residential area is never worth, because worst case scenario i hit a child, and THEN shit myself. and then i make it to the bathroom in time and after all is said and done and flushed, i idly wonder how long until the next time the universe and i set myself up for another experience in the same vein. or colon.