Yup. I’m blogging about toilet paper. Mostly because I can. And because I can’t think of anything more savoury to blog about.
I’m a toilet paper enthusiast. I measure the quality of places by the presence/absence of toiler paper. My best workplace was a place where there was always toilet paper. Every single time. There was even a separate restroom for staff—it was a university, and students and teachers had each their own restroom. The students’ one was fancy enough (and there was also paper).
During my studies at another university, there was no toilet paper. That taught me not to assume that the presence of basic sanitary supplies at sanitary facilities is a matter of course. That also taught me that neither is it a matter of course that cubicle doors lock, that toilets flush and that there is hot water (or even soap or even, even towels).
The restroom was what I loved the most about my workplace. I don’t work there anymore (I might again, as the teacher whom I was substituting and who went mad shows no signs of getting sane any time soon), but I continue to indulge in toilet paper in private. I’m unreasonably demanding, so the only Mara-approved brand for toilet paper and tissues is Zewa (tissues can be Kleenex, too).
The Zewa paper I buy is marketed as having flushable tubes. That’s not the reason I prefer it, and I didn’t test this marketing claim in practice. I don’t trust it. But then again, neither did people trust, say, electricity, before it became commonplace. I imagine the flushable tube was invented as an anti-child hack. I mean, childproof.
