An Even Dozen

I know you really don't care, but...

About 15 minutes ago I took my 12th crap of the weekend. I don't say this for poop humor, as I don't find it particularly funny or anything like that. It is what it is. But what I get out of it is that I'm still so out of touch with my body that it can get so bent it feels the need to harbor any and all solids and go out of kilter like this. I guess the 4-2 lineup threw me for a loop of sorts, then it was all topped off by Thursday's beer and not enough sleep that night.

I don't know. I know it's a lot of stress on my body but is it that much? Am I really throwing myself that under the gun that I react this way? I guess I should do a little research to see what exactly this is indicative of. But jeez, my ass is sore from all this freaking 7th Generation toilet paper. Sure it's recycled and all that stuff, which is cool. But at this point I'm pretty sure it's 98% cardboard.