TMI?

Too much information? Yeah, probably, as it's rather [insert polite euphemism for bathroom/poop]-related.

Restaurant salads are the devil. Every freaking time I've ordered one lately, I happily chow down only to be visited by enormous and rather terrifying rumblings in the stomach region a few short hours later.

Is it that they're not washing the lettuce well enough (or, gads!, at all)?

Perhaps it's that my delicate constitution disagrees with whatever Agent Orange they use to clean the lettuce.

Or maybe (get ready to gag) people aren't washing their hands well! (Gag! I just gagged myself!)

Hell, maybe I've developed an allergy to iceberg "lettuce" (that's another thing- get some real lettuce, people. Jesus.). Whatever it is, it's pissing me off. It's hard enough to eat healthfully in the land of chain restaurants, and cutting salads off the miniscule list of things I can eat depresses me. I suppose it's the price I'll pay however, in order to ensure that I no longer have to leave my office with a super-determined look on my face and commence a fast power walk to the bathroom every 10 minutes.

"Can't talk- be right back. Important business," I try to express, wordlessly, with every fiber of my being. (Er, perhaps we should leave fiber out of this?)

Meanwhile, I'm simultaneously praying that no one is in the restroom, swearing a blue streak while cursing the restaurant, and clenching like there's no tomorrow.

What? Too much information? Hey, I warned you! Now if you'll excuse me, I have some important business to attend to.