At Age 44, Freelance Announcer Aika Kanda Dreams About Poop

On May 29th, I turned 44 years old. Half of my life is over. I feel like I’ve been living decently so far, but honestly, I’m at a loss when I think, “Do I still have to work this hard going forward?” However, the dream I had on the first night of being 44 was wonderful, it motivated me, saying, “Alright, let’s keep going strong!”

 

It was a sunny spring day. I wore a long skirt with five frills from a brand called Red Valentino and went to Ginza. It’s a brand I’ve loved for years, but they discontinued production last year. I couldn’t find it anywhere anymore, so I wanted to cherish it for a long time. Along the way, my stomach started hurting, and I thought, “Maybe I need to go to the bathroom? I’m glad I had a bit of a bloated stomach,” so I stopped by the restroom at Mitsukoshi Ginza. 

I sat on the toilet seat and strained (mmm). But nothing came out easily. I pushed harder once more. Then, with a pop! pop! pop!, three firm poops came out like they were jumping. “Phew”. I hoped more would come out to ease my stomach, but it seemed to be over for now. I wiped myself with toilet paper. But then, surprise! My bottom was exposed! No, not really exposed, it was covered in cloth and not bare. (Ugh! Why!?) I nervously looked at my bottom and realized I forgot to lift up the frill at the bottom, and I had done my business while still wearing my skirt.

 

“Oh no!” I exclaimed. It was my precious Red Valentino skirt. It must be so dirty that it couldn’t be shown. But there was nothing I could do about what I had done. Luckily, when I stood up, there were four layers of frills above it. (If I walk with a straight face, no one will notice around me!) I resigned myself and stood up, and then clink.  Medium-sized, firm, round poops like superballs rolled out onto the floor. (Oh no.) 

I woke up just as I wanted to run away. (What the heck! Was it a dream! Thank goodness!) I cautiously checked my bottom just to be sure, but everything seemed normal. Looking at the clock, it was still 5 AM. (The first dream I’ve had since turning 44, and it’s about accidentally pooping, how embarrassing.) Feeling pathetic, I glanced out the window, noticing it was getting slightly brighter outside. However, there was a much brighter light inside the room.

My husband, who should have been sleeping beside me, was watching the American drama 24 on his smartphone. When I exclaimed, “Already!” he took out his earphones and said, “Huh? Are you awake?” He wasn’t exactly expecting a conversation suitable for just waking up, but unable to bear the embarrassment of experiencing such a terrible “first dream” alone, I told him about it.