For some reason I always get constipated in the fall. I'll spend hours on the toilet, staring out the window I've opened to vent the farts and the feces I wish I could excavate. Seeing all those trees just drop their thousands of leaves on my lawn like it's nothing. The slightest wind blows, and bam! there's another thousand leaves on the ground. Brittle and dry and I'll spend more hours raking them than I will trying to relieve my bowels, hoping that the raking will somehow speed everything along. But the leaves will keep falling, I'll keep raking, and nothing will happen down there except the pressure and the bloating and the continued gas. I'll take a break from raking and drink some prune juice. Then I'll rush to the toilet like something suddenly happened, but nothing does. And then the damn lawn is covered again. I'll rake and I'll rake and I'll rake. And of course I'll bag them up as well because my neighborhood requires all the leaves in special bags that can't be filled above this line, and if it's the wrong bag then I need a sticker that costs more than the bag. So I'll rake and I'll stuff and I'll push and nothing will really get done. Finally I'll give up and leave about fifty thousand leaves scattered around the lawn. I'll give up on the toilet as well and just sit in my recliner expelling gas until there's none left, but there's always some left. It'll start snowing and I'll get cold and turn on the fireplace and sleep until I wake up and the snow has melted and the trees are budding and my stomach hurts so bad I just can't hold it anymore. It'll all come rushing out just as I sit, and I'll wipe until the toilet paper is gone and I'll flush until the water backs up in my basement. Then I'll go outside and mow the lawn and mumble about the stupid leaves that keep getting stuck in the blades and it'll start to get hot and I'll almost pray for fall until my stomach rumbles and reminds me of what's in store for me in the coming months.
published 15 February 2012