A Week In The Life of a Toilet

                                A Week in the Life of a Toilet

                                      By Elizabeth Campbell


Sun. 5/3/02
Dear Diary, so far this morning I've had a great day!  The maid came in and checked me for leaks, and then she put a towel and mint on my back so I would be ready for my first visitor of the day.

Later
Dear Diary, my day got worse around noon when the man of the house came in and left me dirty.  He never washes his hands and hardly flushes me!  And after he leaves, the whole room smells for what seems like hours.  I can't wait for my nightly cleaning!

Later
Dear Diary, I just received the best part of my day, my nightly cleaning.  I feel so refreshed, and ready for sleep.  You wouldn't think just sitting here would be tiring but trying to support heavy people all day and not even getting a 'thank you' sure is.  And after a long day of frequent visitors, even the lightest of people feel heavy.



Mon. 5/4/02
Dear Diary, today the towel and mint on my back didn't feel as good as usual.  Plus the maid had a strange look on her face the whole time she was in here.  From what I can tell, that either means she saw a ghost; couldn't keep her breakfast down; or I'm having some sort of problem.  I am personally hoping for the first one and not the other two that would both be bad for me.

Later
Dear Diary, there are people here calling themselves plumbers and one of them is
taking tools to my lower section.  They talk of taking me away, they can’t do that!  Why would they want to?  What have I done?  I'm so confused and lonely.  My life so far has been wonderful here with this family that I love, how can they possibly be thinking about taking me away from them?  Oh no!  They have shut my water off.  I'm in no condition to be writing right now.

Later
Dear Diary, I am no longer in the safety and comfort of my beloved house.  My spot between the two beautiful sinks is being filled by another, younger toilet. I don't know where I am.  The room is too dark for me to see anything and I feel unwanted and abused. Why has this happened to me?  Everything dear to me has been ripped away and I'm left alone to ponder what's left of my life.  Where is my life to go from here?  Is there anywhere for it to go, or am I just yesterday's news?  Everyone always wants an upgrade, but that new model is no better than me.  He doesn't even know the family.  He doesn't understand their feelings as only one who has known someone can.  He is an imposter in my house!  He is my only enemy and I'm never going to see him again!  Someone help me!



Tues. 5/5/02
Dear Diary, there is now a man in this room.  He has been sitting here all day and never stands.  I've never seen a chair like the one he sits in.  It has two big wheels, one on either side and he doesn't ever walk anywhere, he just rolls the chair.  Also, he doesn't sit straight, he slouches.  I think he is truly the laziest person I have ever seen.  Every so often another man comes in and talks to the slouching man in the wheeled chair.  They talk in low, almost whispered voices and then the man will turn and leave again, only to come back in half an hour or so.  This new life is worse than having to support the heaviest of people who have no thanks for you.  I am truly miserable and will remain that way until I am away from this horrid place.  The man in the chair is looking at me now.  He is examining me I think, but for what I do not know.  After a minute he smiled smugly and turned back to slouching.  Why does he smile so?  Clearly I am in pain, does he really feel that he has to look at me like that?  I don't think that I could feel worse about myself than I do right now.

Later
Dear Diary, the man in the wheeled chair has come and gone three times now.  He stays in this room for long periods of time.  He must be thinking, or at least that's what I get from the expression on his face.  The latest time that he came, he brought with him a wrench which he promptly took to my insides through my top opening.  He seems to have fixed whatever needed to be fixed in me.  I think this because of the satisfactory smile he wore as he wheeled out of the room once again.  After thinking about it, I almost feel that in some way I deserve what's happened to me.  In my seven years of life I have lived like a royal and never really known anything bad.  Maybe this is what is supposed to happen to things that have always lived care free; like a cycle or something.  As goes the cycle of day to night, so goes the cycle of royal to poor.  That could be it.  Although I wish I was still of some purpose to someone.

Later
Dear Diary, the man has talked to me, and it is good news he brings!  He has spoken of a new home for me with a family that will really appreciate me.  This gives me mixed feelings; for one thing, why is this man talking to a toilet and, for another, how does he know that I am fixed?  How smart could this sloucher really be?  Thirdly, will I like my new family?  Hopefully they will be lower class.  Another thing I have wondered about is his posture, why does he slouch so much.  I have never understood slouching and have always prided myself on having wonderful posture.  Oddly enough, I think when I leave, I'm going to miss him and his chair and even this place that has been my home for the past couple days.  It has been a unique, scary, and even interesting experience living here.  Yes, I think I am going to miss it. 



Wed. 5/6/02
Dear Diary, this new home is not what I dreamt of last night.  It is in fact the complete opposite.  Yes, it is lower class, but it is dark and it is cold as well as unwelcoming and quite damp.  There seems to be too many bodies for such a small house.  And every three minutes someone else is making me work.  I am in constant use and the work is excruciating. If it’s already this bad I dread tonight.  Just when I thought everything was going to be upside right it turned out to be down side up. Now's the time to hold my breath; to wish for, once again, a better life.

Later
Dear Diary, It's not even half way through the day and I'm numb, luckily
I guess, because now I don't have to feel the weight and my own tiredness anymore.  I can't imagine living in a school or a restaurant and having to deal with all those people all the time.  I would go crazy. It hurts just to document my life!  And now is the perfect chance for a nap that I can't pass up!

Later
Dear Diary, if every day is like this I don't think I'll be able to take
it!  I feel so gross and unloved.  If only my stupid insides hadn't been acting
up I would still be in the comfort of my royal house calmly waiting my next cleaning even though I wouldn't need it nearly as much as I need one now.  But then again, I wouldn't have to feel this way either, so I would never have known how truly dirty one could get.  And I would be glad to not know!  Is this truly the life I was looking forward to and calling "lower class"?  More like "working class" or "worst pain ever class"!  I hate this life!



Thurs.  5/7/02
Dear Diary, this morning one of the young ones made me "over flow", or so said its father.  The father was mad and called on the man who slouches.  He is apparently one of these plumbers.  He opened me up and looked for the trouble.  After a while of work, he said he'd have to replace me.  That is good because I won't have to be here, but is also bad because I am not good enough for this job.  He returned in about an hour and promptly loaded me into his truck.  I was happy to see that house go! As we drove along the man sang to the radio, off-key but not badly.  Once we got to the place he called his work shop he unloaded me and began to make phone calls.  I feel quit hopeful about my next home, that is if it is somewhere between the last two.  Not too crowded, but also not too fancy.  That's all I ask. 

Later
Dear Diary, I haven't been moved anywhere yet, but I remain hopeful that I will
get a new home where I am cleaned regularly and at least appreciated well enough.  For now I will try harder to listen to the man making his calls and see if I can find out anything about where I'm to go.

Later
Dear Diary, the man is preparing to go home for the night and hums to himself as he works.  He even occasionally speaks to me.  This is something I have grown to like very much.  I eagerly wait for the next thing he will say even when he hasn't spoken in a long while.  He is good company to me and I hope that I am to him as well.  Maybe my next home will be something like his, where people actually care about their toilets.  That way we would both win.  He, because he finds a home for me, and me, because I have a great home.



Fri. 5/8/02
Dear Diary, today the man told me that I would be getting a new home, one that wouldn't just give me back the next day and that would clean me regularly.  This is very exciting news to me.  I will have a good home!

Later
Dear Diary, almost three hours later his friend came and they loaded me into his van, and we are now headed toward what is to, hopefully, become my new permanent home!  I am so very excited right now!

Later
Dear Diary, I am now fully installed and freshly cleaned.  At once I was introduced to the owners of this, my new, home; the slouching man and his wife!  She calls him Jim, and he calls her Ashley, and so will I for they are my new family and I love them already!  I think this will be a great home.  Though I'll never forget the other homes I have had, I know that this one will top them both. 



Sat. 5/9/02
Dear Diary, I am as happy as I could ever hope to be.  This is the perfect house
for me; not too much work, but, then again, not to little to make me feel lazy.  No
one wants or needs a lazy toilet.  For now I'm left with the sink and bathtub
for company, while Jim and Ashley are out for lunch.  They are supposed to be in around four. I feel loved again, and it took hardly any effort.

Later
Dear Diary, I'm going to have a long night; nachos for dinner!