The bathroom at the office is becoming a daily trial. I can't count the number of times I've had to flush for other people (I have good balance, so I do it with my foot). I now know way more than I should about other people's inner workings.

But the other day was truly the end. Those with delicate sensibilities should stop reading now.

I noticed that someone else had not flushed and thought, oh well, I'm already the Toilet Fairy of Big Tech, what's one more flush. Then I See It. I do not know how the human body produces something that large. It was three to four times too big to flush. It was the size of my foot. It was Turdzilla.

Whoever produced this monster didn't even bother to cover it up. They just left the sanitary cover on the seat, like a frame. Maybe they passed out and had to be taken to the hospital. Maybe they simply floated away feeling the weight of the world was finally off their (ahem) shoulders. Or maybe they ran, ran like the wind.

All I know is, there's a janitor closet right next to the ladies, and had that been mine (God forbid, please please please no), I would have beaten it to death until it flushed, or covered it so no one else needed to EVER THINK ABOUT IT. LIKE I AM NOW. IT HAUNTS ME.

In case you were wondering, this is one reason why I really, really don't like my job. Not the main reason. But it ain't helping.