There’s only one potty in the ladies’ toilet in my office. And it’s on the second floor. (Don’t lie to yourself, you love the word potty too. Totes.)
So, every time I need to pee, I have to go up the stairs. And every time there’s someone there.
This lady. I know it’s her. It’s always her.
She’s my toilet doppelganger.
Our bladders are perfectly synchronized.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m her or if she’s me.
We are one.