No, this is not the promised post about my five memorable nights. Nor is it the promised post on my new job at the Casa de Insurance.

Sometimes, more frequently for some than for others, you have a moment when you think to yourself, "Really, isn't this more humiliation than a person should be expected to deal with?"

The following is a true story...

So I'm at work today, because it's Friday and because the vacation time I have available for the remainder of the year is dwindling, and because we need the income and the health insurance. It's a typical Friday at the Casa de Insurance. I'm working diligently at my new job, trying to formulate a response to a complaint that just won't go away. I'm tired. It's been a long week, and I haven't been sleeping well because... well... my husband's an idiot, but that's another story.

I go to the bathroom. This in itself is not an unusual occurrence.

I unzip. I sit down. I lean back and close my eyes for just a second because people, I am weary at this point in time...

And the toilet comes lose from the wall and crashes to the floor.

Thankfully (and surprisingly), water did not come spewing forth from the wall. Also thankfully, I was the only one in the bathroom at the time. I zipped up and ran.

The bathroom is now closed, and us ladies have to hike to the other end of the building right now if we need to go. The workman are in there now fixing it.

Did I tell anyone?

No, I did not.

And I'm not ashamed of this.