Rant #26380

So exams are done (wut wut!) but I still have a zillion things to do, and I apologize for sounding like a sorority girl (Oh Em Gee!) but this is what END OF TERM DOES TO ME. I'm aching to do some real writing, but that shall have to wait until the end of this week or possibly next year. But I have to say this:
Why? Why do people think it is okay to talk to you while you're in the washroom? And I don't mean washing your hands in a ladylike manner or adjusting the lapel of your blazer. No. I mean full on emptying your bladder (while trying to keep the audible trickling to a minimum) or taking a dump (really softly of course). Going to a public washroom is awkward enough, let alone going to an office washroom and running into colleagues. It makes for awkward eye shuffling and hasty retreats into cubicles. "Hi.." "Hi..Washroom party!" ".... yeah..."
No. This is not the place for conversation unless you're my best friend (and that's not okay either; my best friends just happen to be really gross people with no sense of boundaries.) or my mother ( likewise with the boundaries. "But why do I have to leave the room when you're changing? I have no wish to look at you. I'm reading, and this bed is comfy and I CARRIED YOU AROUND IN MY UTERUS YOUNG LADY." No mom, just no).
It is not okay to ask me when my last day of work is when I taking a leak. It is not okay to compliment my haircut when I have clearly been inside the washroom for longer than 3 minutes, and it is definitely not okay to discuss The Nutcracker with me over a plastic door with farts from adjoining cubicles for background music. Go away. And come back when I'm presentable, without any toilet paper in a 100 mile radius and preferably bring donuts.

Linds: N-E-Ways...Biochem makes spiders look cuddly, no?
Me: Please. Biochem makes the rampaging hormonal lovechild of a grizzly and an alligator look cuddly.

She had been having vivid dreams for the major part of the month. Some days, if she was lucky she did not remember the dreams as she woke up. Other days she woke up tumbling from an alternate realm, clutching in relief at reality. The dreams were disturbing, they were recurrent and they were always scenarios that could happen in a psychopath's twisted sick visions. They involved people close to her and random fragments that peopled her memories. They shifted and heaved throughout the night, and never did she arise feeling well rested. She had been eating her dinner by 8, going to work and watching funny sitcoms. It was a fairly uneventful time in her life, where nothing really extraordinary or dramatic occurred. So tonight, she decided to watch something disturbing. She put on Girl, Interrupted and identified with Lisa being dead inside, Suzanna trying to fill the monster within her, and the deep fear that everything was meaningless. Then she turned off the lights and slipped into bed.