that time i almost peed myself.

okay, so this is one of those stories that is only mildly embarassing, because it contains the word “almost” in the title. as in, i did not fully pee myself, i just almost did. i estimate that i had about 60 seconds left in me to hold it before disaster would have struck.


as you may have heard, i travel for work sometimes. this last time, i was in boston for a client meeting with three co-workers. the meeting had just finished and had gone great. i felt like i could probably use the restroom, but 1) asking a client to use the restroom always takes way more thought than i’m usually capable of after a meeting, and 2) it had only taken us about 30 minutes to get there from the airport, so i would be fine until we got back.

off we went, all four of us in the car, headed back to the airport. we were all happy about our meeting and happy about going home. and then we hit traffic. apparently rush hour in boston starts at about 3:00pm. which i had not heard the client mentioning to my co-worker before we left. because if i had, i would not be in the situation i was about to be in right then.

a 30 minute drive looked like it was going to take us over an hour. and all of a sudden, i had to go. like, really, really, really had to go. and i was with co-workers, so i tried to hide it as best i could. but the issue here was that i happen to have the tiniest bladder in the whole wide world. it’s a running joke between Mister Man and me. every time i run into the house and straight to the bathroom, he says, “what a shock!” (don’t worry, there is nothing medically wrong with me, i just have small organs.)

so we’re driving along, and all of a sudden i realized i had waited too long to tell the driver about my little problem, and we were now in the carpool lane, in traffic, unable to exit anywhere. and i’m starting to actually perspire from the effort of trying not to wet my pants. and my co-worker in the backseat with me noticed. and she started to talk about how terrible i look, and kept asking if i was going to be okay, to which i wanted to respond, “NO! and i will sit on you if you keep talking about it!” but i just smiled and said i was fine. in her defense, she told me a story about how she wet her pants at the alamo, and that did make me feel a little bit better.

this was my face during the ordeal.

you guys, at this point, i was running possible scenarios through my head to figure out how i was going to live down this humiliation in front of so many people i work with. i really wished that i was a boy at that point, because then a water bottle would at least be a possibility. when we were about five minutes from the airport, i finally broke down and told the driver that she was going to need to drop me off at the front door of the airport and bring my luggage to check-in for me, because i could not wait.

i think it was the urgency slash COMPLETE PANIC in my voice that made her listen to me. and when we pulled up i jumped out of the car and like a homing pigeon, found the nearest bathroom. i’ve never walked/hobbled/dragged myself through an airport faster. i’m not going to get graphic, but i think you all know how wonderful i felt in that moment.


and now you know everything about one of the most terrifying moments of my young life. i tell you this story because i’m in boston today and i’m going back to the scene of the crime tomorrow. and i will be making damn sure that i take care of business before i get into any vehicle this time. because boston, i love you, but your traffic is the stuff of nightmares.

like i’ve said before, there can be upsides to work travel. one of them being that you get to see friends who for some reason or another have decided they want to move away from you. (it can’t have anything to do with me, can it??) i’m crossing my fingers real hard for a mini-reunion with some dear ones tonight, so cross your fingers with me please!

p.s. a certain blogger friend of mine recently inspired me with this post to start posting outfit photos to instagram. follow along for awkward (and hopefully a few not so awkward) photos of me  in the few and far between outfits i see fit to share. might be fun? here’s the first one:


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the gym is so embarrassing.

i like to think i’m a fairly confident person, in the sense that there aren’t a lot of things that embarrass me…talking in front of people doesn’t make me nervous. i once put on a poodle skirt and did swing dances (multiple) in front of 3,000 people at my company’s annual meeting. i married the man who i had the most awkward first kiss with EVER. i’m pretty good with keeping my cool in potentially cringe-worthy situations. which is why my frustration with the gym is so high.

why does it have to be such an embarrassing place?? is it not enough that you are exerting yourself to points of physical discomfort so great you feel pukey*? is it not enough that you are all sweaty and gross and ALWAYS see someone you know when you are at the peak of the workout? why can’t it be enough that all the weirdos want to talk to you when all you want to do is pick out a magazine?

i go to the gym with the best of intentions and normally in a really great mood. more often than not i end up leaving with the feeling that something could have gone better. that or i should just stick to working out to my jillian michael’s dvds in my living room.

out of the last 3 times i’ve been to the gym, i have:

  • – accidentally reserved a stairstepper instead of an elliptical machine, but because there were about twenty people watching me do it, i just stayed with the stairstepper out of shame. they are the worst, and that workout confirmed why i never use them.
  • – circled one of the new elliptical machines for 3 minutes, attempting to determine which number machine i was on. half of this time was spent after i had asked the gym attendant where the numbers were posted.
  • – awkwardly hovered around one of the occupied weight machines while Mister Man searched out an ever-elusive floor mat for me. no, sir, i do not want to make eye contact with you, i am waiting for my husband to finish doing a favor for me. thank you goodbye.
  • – choked while taking a sip of water from the public drinking fountain. because of course.

MM and i go to the gym together all the time and yet we have never worked out near each other.  i think i just figured out why.

*this is not a reflection on how hard i workout, only a reflection of how out of shape i am from not going to the gym enough.

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