[NB: This post replaces a Dirty Old Man post.]
On occasion, the urge to shit will strike while I'm teaching. Perhaps the same has happened to you, in which case this post is for you.
When the urge to shit strikes, and I find myself helpless to do anything about it, my normal reaction is to start sweating. It's a cold sweat, the sweat of the soon-to-be-executed. The sweat generally has a companion: a bellyache. The ache is almost always located in the gut area above my left hip and under the ribcage. It's where I imagine most of the shit is currently located, protected by my impressive love handle.
At such moments, I find myself entertaining some wild thoughts. One thought, always a hoot, is that if someone were to run me through with a sword at that point-- i.e., right in the sub-love-handle shit-locus-- they'd be in for a nasty surprise. Look out! It's a booby trap!
This past Monday, I was hit with the dudulogical urge, but I decided to do something about it. So while I was ostensibly teaching my 7:50AM students, I analyzed the stomachache and the sweat, and divided the pain up into its component parts. I reached mentally into my guts and tried to locate where, exactly, the shit was hiding. Having concluded that the urge I was feeling was not directly connected to an impending outpouring of crap, I began unplugging whatever odd and artificial psychic connection existed between my colon, my small intestine, and my sweat glands.
The process worked. By analyzing the pain, becoming mindful of its parts, and realizing that the urge to shit wasn't synonymous with the imminent arrival of shit, I kept myself from running out of the classroom to the nearest toilet.
If you find yourself in a similar shit-uation, I highly recommend you stop yourself and go through this process. When class ended, I very calmly and rationally headed off to the loo, voided my troubles, and had myself a decent day.
_
In response to the old man post. Don't you hate how the names can be so damn alike sometimes? It can get more than a man's hopes up when he gets an e-mail.
ReplyDeleteOh man, what did I miss? I love dirty old man posts, they somehow hit so close to home (shaddup, Joel).
ReplyDelete