I've just moved into my new (though temporary) home, and have noticed some interesting changes in my habits. I call this a Dissertation on Geographic Relocation and Acute Circadian Time-shift on the Bowel Habits of Me.

In normal terms: I moved, my hours changed, and I can't poop normal no more.

Before this, I had a habit. I would arise joyfully at 7:00 AM, poop at five after, shower, shave, and be on the road by 7:30, ready for my day. It was a routine I took for granted, and it was a routine that NEVER varied. I pooped EVERY morning, always at the same time. It's nice to have comfort from stability -- but sadly, I appreciated this fact too late.

Flash forward to yesterday. First day in a new town, first day at a new job. I stumble out of bed at 5:30 AM, wipe the eye-snot from my eyes, and trip my way to the bathroom. I remember thinking, "Christ, the SUN isn't even awake yet." Because I'm pretty much on autopilot, I pull up a ring and sit on my morning throne. Grabbing a magazine, I leaf through, looking at words but not reading them. Time passes.

Nothing else passes. Not even a fart.

Mildly alarmed at the break in tradition, I ponder... but still I sit. No clock in the bathroom, but I knew it was getting late -- my new job is about forty-five minutes away, and I have to be there by 7:00. Furious with my inability to produce, I hop in the shower, not bothering to shave.

I leave my new "house." By now I'm already running late. The clock in my car indicates that it's now 6:25. Dropping the shifter into Drive, I wonder aloud if I dozed off on the crapper waiting for the poop fairy, because I sure don't remember taking nearly an hour to get ready. Oh well, too late now. If I drive "briskly," I should still make it on-time to my new job; on the first day, I guess that's important.

The drive was uneventful -- until I was nearly in sight of my new office. Apparently my body had awakened almost an hour and 35 minutes before my colon. Unfortunately, because of the ingrained behavior I've enjoyed for the last three years, there was no snooze button on THIS alarm clock. I couldn't believe it.

A glance at the clock confirmed my fears: 7:04. Already late for work -- I even had a meeting at 7:15 -- and my colon was about to yawn itself awake into my new suit. I sped up, which was easy because I was lifting my butt off the seat to help my gluteus exert more force on my bulging sphincter, thereby transferring extra weight onto the gas pedal.

For most of us, controlling a solid, healthy, normal poop is easy -- it's the liquid slurry-like ones that pose the problems. However, apparently my sphincter works on a time lock -- when zero-hour rolls around, there'd better be a dumping ground nearby, because that door is going to open. My ass, it seems, knows no other way.

I sped through the security gate, futilely waved my badge at the bewildered guard, and literally busted ass to the nearest head. I made it to my first meeting on time. Hopefully my new employers and co-workers thought the sweat on my brow and slightly blood-shot eyes were just the tension of moving and starting a new job. Little did they know how right they truly were.

-- Dave J