Toilet Paper, Karma, and Me
Somebody, please tell me I'm not the only one to experience this:
Have you ever changed the toilet paper roll at home, only to find yourself changing them everywhere you go for the next week or so?
I mean, it happens EVERY. SINGLE. PLACE. The cycle begins in my own bathroom, where my dearly beloved will leave approximately 1 1/2 inches of paper on the roll for me in the morning. Later in the day, I'll take a minute during a (rare) break at work to use the restroom, and there's an empty roll on the spool. OK, I suppose I don't have to change it; I could always behave like the inconsiderate lout who was in there before me and just open a new roll. But being a relatively well-bred sort, I perform the task and then get to feel all morally superior---at least until I arrive home, where I make a quick stop in my son's bathroom on the way to the computer for the late-night dish on Allnurses, only to find.........two sheets left. ARRRRRRRRGH!!
Now I'm up to three rolls, and the next day continues in similar fashion. I go to Safeway in the late morning to pick up a few lunchables for my next shift, and halfway through the produce section my Lasix kicks in. Guess what? There isn't so much as a shred of toilet paper in the stall. Like a well-trained monkey, I take advantage of the stack sitting on the back of the commode next door and stick one on the spool for the next customer, all the while grumbling about peoples' lack of courtesy in general and their lack of TP etiquette in particular. At work, I use a different bathroom before the start of my shift...........no luck there either, as there is naught but a few scraps left on the roll and to make matters worse, no extra rolls stashed under the sink. So I grab a couple out of the housekeeper's closet, put the new roll on, pinch a finger, utter a bit of choice invective, and toss the empty cardboard in the trash.
Five rolls of toilet paper changed in less than 48 hours. Is someone trying to tell me something?
The next day is a day off. I decide to get out of the house and pay a long-promised visit to a friend. This woman, a former co-worker and nurse of some 40 years' vintage, lives in a restored early-1900s house whose only nod to modernity is a big, beautiful bathroom with a garden tub, two sinks, and a luxurious soft, faux-fur toilet seat...........everything, in other words, except a full roll of toilet paper. This one has just enough to do the job, but not one sheet more. I pull a new roll off the cute little wooden kitty TP holder, but not before the clumsies get me, and the spool goes SPROING! and shoots across the room, knocking over one of the candle holders sitting on the edge of the bathtub. This makes it necessary to offer my apologies as I emerge, red-faced, from the loo.
By this time, I'm convinced that there is indeed a message in all this, and it's as loud and clear as the crash of hobnailed milk glass in a porcelain tub: I wasn't put here on earth to make my parents happy, to grow up and have a family, to become a nurse and take care of people. I was put here because NO ONE ELSE ON THE PLANET KNOWS HOW TO CHANGE A TOILET PAPER ROLL.
Back home again, I run downstairs to check on one of the cats, who hasn't been feeling well of late. (My family believes that RN=DVM.) She's OK, thank goodness. The TP supply, not so much: I walk into the bathroom to change into some grubbies for an hour or two of yard work, and reflexively I check the toilet-paper spool, which---to my lack of surprise---has maybe five sheets remaining. I mutter darkly (something along the lines of "What the hell does he DO with this stuff?!") as I rip the near-empty roll out of the wall and replace it with another 400-sheet roll of Ultra Strong Charmin. Dearly beloved and I use that bathroom four, five times a day at most, and I buy the expensive paper so we don't have to change the roll every flippin' day. Yeah, right.
And so it goes. Whether I'm at the mall, on the job, at the gas station, or in any one of the three bathrooms in my own house, the job of changing the toilet-paper roll is mine and mine alone........until that magical moment when I hear a plaintive cry: "Hey, could somebody get me a new pack of toilet paper? We're out in here!"
I haven't had to change a roll in almost two weeks.Last edit by Joe V on Jan 8, '16
About VivaLasViejas, ASN, RN Guide
Joined: Sep '02; Posts: 26,641; Likes: 43,094
RN and blogger extraordinaire; from OR , US
20 year(s) of experience in LTC, assisted living, geriatrics, psychJun 6, '09WHAT A GREAT READ !!!
I thoroughly enjoyed that, Marla, thank you !!! :chuckle
Can't say I've had the same experience, but I can see where it could happen.. frustrating, eh?
Love your new avi, and by the way.... CONGRATS to ds AND you on the youngest's graduation !!!Jun 6, '09Glad you enjoyed it, Netters!
BTW, I'll let Ben know that you like his photo.......the dear boy professes to hate it when I post his piccys, but I think he secretly thrives on the attention.:wink2:Jun 6, '09I think THEY are out to get you in a toilet paper conspiracy plot
The truth is out there, somewhereJun 6, '09Quote from loricatus*SNORT*I think THEY are out to get you in a toilet paper conspiracy plot
The truth is out there, somewhereJun 7, '09I just knew I had a twin / soul mate somewhere on this earth, and my dear Marla ...... she's across that vast ocean called the Pacific!
OMG! you have expressed ever so eloquently my own story! D
I've just had the biggest chuckle as I read and resonated with your account of the loo paper scenario! THANKS!
Jun 7, '09I've had something like this happen to me in the past. I break the karmic cycle by NOT replacing the roll. Eventually, everything equalizes. Karma somehow gets off balance. Or....we are the only suckers that'll do it! LOL
Does this happen with filling cars with gas too? That seems to happen a lot to me too.Jun 7, '09Hey, thanks for the helpful hint..........I'd have to work to resist the instinct to change the roll because I am SO well-trained, but I GOTTA START SOMETIME!!!!!:chuckleJul 15, '09Vivalasviejas, I sure enjoyed this post.
On a related note, have you ever had to ask someone in the next stall for TP, and have had them give out a piece the size of a postage stamp? I've had that happen, and it's not nearly enough for the job.Jul 15, '09I know what you mean, squeaky---with my luck, Sheryl Crow is parked in the next stall and I have to practically beg for enough TP to take care of business!Jul 16, '09Quote from VivaLasViejasThat's why I always check for paper before I sit down. It's like the people in the next stall are acting like they had to pay $5 per sheet or something, they're that stingy.I know what you mean, squeaky---with my luck, Sheryl Crow is parked in the next stall and I have to practically beg for enough TP to take care of business!