Jennie Peeeee (Get it!?)

You know how when you open up a pea pod to eat some delicious plump peas, there is always one pea that is very small, flat and shriveled up? That is the size of my bladder. I have to pee a lot. Like A LOT. It would be exaggerating to say that I pee rainbows and gold (leprechaun stuff), but it would not be exaggerating to say that I pee almost every hour. I don't like to tell people about my small bladder because it makes me feel embarrassed. I feel that there is something wrong with my insides and then I get all mopey.

My job is one of the most important jobs ever to have existed in the universe. I call it "Phone Answerer". It is so important, that when I am not at my desk to answer the phone, someone in the office dies. Not a peaceful, relaxing death like Oscar Wilde's where the dying person makes a very snarky comment about interior decoration, but a painful, throw-up and convulsions death like Socrates's.

So whenever I go to the bathroom, I have to let my co-worker know so that she can "cover the phones" for me. But because I am embarrassed to tell her about my small bladder, and judging from the eye rolling and sigh she gives me every time I say "I'm running to the bathroom", I think she must be thinking the following:

1) That girl does a lot of blow.
2) That girl does a lot of private bathroom crying.
3) That girl definitely does not have a small bladder that makes her need to pee a lot because that would be RIDICULOUS.