Refreshing Toilet Space

I don’t know if this ever happens to you, but I have a maddening tendency to fixate on certain phrases or concepts that I think of when I get into a particular physical space or do a specific task. Whenever I distribute my vitamin supplements in those little organizers that you can get, you know, the morning capsules, the evening capsules, I think of a particular person who once briefly occupied a seat on the local Board of Supervisors (and became a character in my novels). I have NO idea why. When I straighten out the kettlebell rack at the gym I always remember a particularly assholesque posse of commenters in the local newspaper. And lately when I go in my client bathroom, I think of this.

Refreshing Toilet Space

Though it would seem to make more sense than the previous associations, it was not always thus. But after replacing the trickling, hissing, balking commode that was probably original with the house, I found it necessary to buy a package of shims because the floor’s uneven and the plumbers didn’t get things quite right, and at the moment I set those shims down on the bathtub rim, not having seen this image on for about seven years, I thought “refreshing toilet space,” and now I can’t get it out of my head. At least in the head.

Is anyone else weird like this?


5 thoughts on “Refreshing Toilet Space

  1. Oh god, yes. I grew up watching the film “Singin’ in the Rain,” which I have seen probably a hundred times. Every single time I drop someone off at a destination, my mind blares: “Here we are, Sunset and Camden!” It’s a relief when I’m with my mother (whom I have to thank/blame for my SITR imprinting) and can actually say it aloud. I also have this problem with a lot of Tom Lehrer lyrics, and frequently when I am brushing my teeth, the line “Pollution, pollution, you can use your favorite toothpaste/And then rinse your mouth with industrial waste” comes into my mind.

    • I have never seen that film. I may be lucky.

      Tom Lehrer is another matter. There was a time when I could not stop humming “Poisoning Pigeons in the Park,” though I don’t dislike pigeons at all, and there wasn’t a noticeable trigger.

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