Every so often, I have a bad day at work. It happens to everyone, right? We all have those days when we want to chunk it all and live in a tree house on a mountaintop overlooking a scenic valley, except in my case I’d get so bored looking at the valley that I would start to envision a giant tidal wave washing away all the homes, while panic-stricken townspeople scramble like ants to escape the tsunami of death. Just ignore me.
But the problem with having a bad day at work is that no one has just one job anymore. On any given day, my job as a teacher might be awesome but I come home to my job as a mom to discover that the dog we’ve had for years has forgotten how to use the bathroom outside and that one of the kids has also forgotten where the poop goes. Or I have one of those award-winning Mom days when I make it look freakin’ easy, then I start working on my job as a writer and realize that I cannot spell liaison anymore, no matter how hard I try.
Walking away starts to look really good sometimes.
What really stops me from quitting my job as a writer is NOT the desperate hope I cling to that someday I’ll be a famous published author who flies from book signing to book signing, pausing to approve the screenplay and attend Julia Roberts’ audition for the lead role.
It’s my dream toilet.
I don’t dream about being a famous enough writer (ahem…wealthy enough writer) to quit my day job. I actually really love my day job. I just want to be rich enough to own my dream potty, specifically the $6000 one I saw in a magazine.
This potty has it all. It has foot warmer vents, ambient lighting embedded in the base, an automatic seat warmer, even speakers so you can plug in your MP3 player to enjoy some soothing music. Or drown out the, um…sound. This potty-from-above even has a sensor that can tell whether the user is standing or sitting, and therefore will flush accordingly from either the Number One tank (less water) or Number Two tank (more water), all automatically, of course. It has an automatic deadly-accurate bidet feature! It has an iPad dock and desktop! It is poo-nirvana!
Even though I write fiction, I write enough non-fiction to realize this potty is not likely to happen in my bathroom any time soon. There are so many things we need before we need an ergonomic toilet with lumbar support. Right now I’d settle for a bathroom door that locks for those times I’m utilizing when my children suddenly remember where the poop goes.