This really belongs in Obgynorama.
But I’m breaking my own code.
Because this was the most extraordinary workplace moment I’ve had for a long long long time.
It went like this.
Creamy, taupe coloured pants.
Very bad temper for the past week.
Sitting at the desk for an hour or so and the need to arise and get coffee.
Oh my god, I’m imagining that, right?
Another gush. Now I know what waters breaking must feel like.
Wrong. Something is wrong.
Brain is very slow on catching up with the obvious.
Horrified glance down reveals – – oh crap, you know what it reveals and it’s in glorious technicolour against the creamy taupe pants.
As I watch, it’s calf-length.
The ladies is on the far side of the office. The far, far, far side.
Through reception, the lift foyer and about 57 miles of hallway.
I can make it.
Shit, I have to make it.
Adrenaline is kicking in: flight response.
Figuring I can make it no worse, I run.
Next time my washing machine dies I’m just going to dump some laundry powder in the cistern and use the flush as the rinse cycle.
Because toilets? In an emergency? Make an excellent washing machine.
But my building? Being fully energy efficient? Has no air dryer in the ladies loo.
So I stand. In the cubicle. Half dressed. And I flap.
Flap. Flap. Flap.
Adrenaline Sour kicks in and my hands start shaking.
This helps with the flapping.
Eventually the pants stop dripping and I figure I have no choice but to wear them wet.
I saunter back to my office. Reeeal casual-like.
Should I mention that this is the office where I’m just helping out for a few weeks and I don’t know anybody terribly well?
Yep. Not a sister in sight.
I sit on a newspaper so my chair doesn’t get all soggy and give me away.
Eventually, the pants dry.
Other things are contained.
I think to myself:
“Where’s an albino period when you need one?”