I Need A Litterbox

Or At Least A Large Potted Plant...

What is it with people camping out in the office bathrooms? I mean, I know it's Friday, and as loyal subjects of The Man we're all in full-on slacker mode, but still!

I'm about to pop here. Eyeballs are turning yellow. Back teeth are swimming. I'd go to the can on the other side of the building, but it was installed back in the Pleistocene Era when the average human stood 4 foot 3 and weighed no more than a nanny goat. Trying to squeeze into those stalls is about like fitting a country ham into a Spam can... you can do it, but you tend to shave off big chunks around the edges.

It might be time to have the emergency potted plant installed in the unused cubicles down the hall. Damn diuretics.

Update: Problem solved. Camper has exited as I typed this, and wonder of wonders, actually carried in a can of Lysol and made good use of it.