Went out last night, had a few beers, then am reminded there's a charity run organized by a friend for this girl at our school who was recently diagnosed with cancer at 8 AM. Go home feeling a bit cheated, get to sleep at around 1. Throughout the whole night, I have this dull ache in my stomach that prevents me from getting adequate sleep and keeps me slightly but constantly conscious while I sleep.
Managed to somehow wake up at 7:00, but at this point I'm already a bit late so I dash out the door with an apple for breakfast. On the way to the bus stop, the apple starts wreaking havoc in my bowels, savage stomach cramps followed by copious amounts of gas; 20 minutes later, I decide its not worth it because I'm going to be late anyways and as badly as I feel I limp back home.
It's about 15 minutes from the bus stop to my house, and at around 10 I start getting uneasy. Gophers poking out everywhere, and it doesn't look good. There's a slight hill ahead, and I'm huffing and puffing trying to balance speed with not taking a shit in the middle of the road.
I manage to get back home, but I live in an apartment so I'm faced with 2 flights of stairs. I whip up one of them; NOT a good idea. Gopher's gettin' restless. Gingerly carry myself up the second, and I dash into the bathroom. At this point, I'm thinking I made it and I guess I decided to relax a bit.
The motherfucker decides it's done going in and out, and its gonna projectile itself out of my ass. Lo and behold, I'm suddenly faced with cleaning up diarrhea ALL THE FUCK OVER my bathroom floor. 20 minutes and a whole roll of super absorbent toilet paper later, I'm faced not only with the guilt of having skipped a charity run for a friend with cancer, but having shit miss the loo for the first time since fucking kindergarden.
And now I'm about to go hand in my resume to apply for a job at a local boardshop. Wish me luck, because I'll fucking need it today.