Maybe not bliss, but when you have OCD or CRS, or are just a little whacky like me, knowing about something can be more stressful than being in the dark.
For the past 10 years or so, Joannie and I have lived together, sharing a bathroom amongst other things, and there’s always a roll of toilet paper in there, and now and then it gets empty and one of us changes it. I’ve been happy with that situation and never thought very much about it. Last week, for some reason, Joannie mentions that the toilet roll lasts a week, and it gets changed every Sunday.
I did not know that. What an interesting factoid to haunt my sanity.
Today is Monday, and there’s almost a quarter roll left, and I’m going crazy. Is someone not pooping enough? Is someone forgetting to do their paperwork? Did they start making the rolls larger? I don’t think so, but where did all that extra paper come from? Are the toilet paper gnomes coming in late at night and weaving new paper out of straw? And where are they getting straw? I don’t live in a barn!
Joannie says I’m exceedingly weird, and I don’t disagree, but why torture me with toilet paper inconsistencies when I was perfectly happy when I knew nothing?
On second thought, if anyone does know the answer to any of these questions, keep it to yourself, I don’t want to know.