Do Not Use That Stall, I Just Had a Huge Cry in There

Hey man, I see you’re about to go into that stall and I have to in good conscience stop you—I was just in there and I just took a massive leak.

What? Ew no, I meant that I was crying hard in there. Most people would blame it on someone else, but that’s not really my style. No, that’s my work in there.

I don’t know what came over me: I got into the office and I felt a little weird so I went to the bathroom. And—I’m sorry if this is TMI—but I just started fucking bawling man.

Yeah, it was like a slip and slide out of my eyes dude. Like you could legit probably get eight kids sliding downhill on a tarp with the load that just shot out of my eyes.

I don’t know what exactly caused it. I had a weird breakup with my fifth-grade best friend—I know, I know, those friendships go bad fast and you should toss them way sooner—and it just didn’t sit right with me. But that was a week ago so you’d think I would have already worked that through my system.

And sorry if this is too much, but so much came out of me. I looked like the Trevi Fountain dude. Like, tourists could’ve thrown coins at me and made a wish while getting pickpocketed. I didn’t even realize I had that many tears in my body. It was one of those cries where you have to grip the bars of the bathroom stall just to make sure you don’t blast off the ground from the force of your own supply.

I was seriously whimpering like crazy in there bro. Normally I would be embarrassed about making those noises in public, but when your tear ducts feel like they’re getting wrung out like a loose wet mop, you just gotta hope you stay alive.

It could be an argument I had with my older brother earlier this week about how our mom still coddles me at 33. I didn’t feel too keen after that, but we’ve had that discussion a few times and it’s never made me blow up a whole bathroom like Mount Vesuvius before.

It’s not a pretty sight either. I tried to wipe away my tears but I just kept cranking out tears faster than me and my tissues could mop them up. So now there’s just straight-up raw sad juice all over the ground. And then I tried to use toilet paper to mop them up but I just started spreading my tears all around and making it worse.

I sort of feel bad for the cleaning crew but I don’t want them to know it was me. Oh crap, I hope they have a wet vacuum or something to get all of that out.

Oh you know what? Maybe it was the feedback I got from Marta yesterday. That’s probably it. Yeah, she told me that I’ve been making some mistakes that would be noteworthy for someone even more junior than me. Some people have a natural tolerance to feedback but I find that it just runs right through me. As soon as I saw her this morning I beelined for the bathroom to do my business.

Sorry, and by “my business” I mean legit spraying that shit from my eyes like a super soaker that you don’t even have to refill.

I’ll be honest I’m a little touch-and-go right now. If someone so much as looks at me weird or hangs out with their oldest friend around me, I’m hauling ass back to stall number three. Honestly, even if none of that happens, I’m still not sure I got it all out and I’m going to have to go back in there twenty minutes from now. I seriously don’t want to spill my crybaby sauce all over another stall so I might just tape up a makeshift out-of-order sign or something.

Ok, I’m off to find a coconut water because I lost more fluids in there than the Trevi Fountain when it’s drained for cleaning. But seriously, I can’t afford to go to the hospital from crying-related dehydration again.