Restrooms, Revisited

A trip to the University of Iowa library restroom inspired me to spark up the ol' blog and begin anew. While I do not plan on dedicating the entirety of my blogging to toilets and toilet related experiences, it could feasibly happen, and as it is my muse, I've taken the suggestion of my pal in poo, Rachel, and named my blog accordingly.

And now on to my story of woe:

The long and short of it is that I am too small in frame for the library toilets. They were crafted for someone composed of perhaps a girthier girth than I. Though, immediately I'm sure I'm leading you astray. Please, abandon all images you may have conjured up of me falling butt first into a cold bath of filthied water. That is not what this is about. I did not fall in.

These toilets are all equipped with those motion detecting sensors that know when you've finished your business and stand up to fasten your britches and be on your way.

That's the way it's supposed to work.
You walk in.
It sees you.
You sit down.
You do your thing.
You stand up.
It no longer sees you.
It flushes.

All well and good in theory, if you're the right size to still be "seen" while you're sitting down. I am not the right size.

Here's how it goes for me:
I walk in.
It sees me.
I sit down.
It no longer sees me.
It flushes.
I squirm to angle myself away from terrifying splash-back effects.
The squirming makes it see me.
It stops flushing.
I sit back correctly.
It no longer sees me.
It flushes.
I squirm.
Etc. etc. rinse and repeat.

Now anyone who knows me well knows I do not do well with bathroom drama. See: Germany. This is distressing. I spend a lot of time in the library, guys. Like a lot. I'm taking 6 classes. And do you know how much coffee drinking taking 6 class requires? A lot, guys, a lot. I can't handle bathroom anxieties. Not again.

Help?