I had my first-ever real accident the other day. I'm not sure if that is reason for celebrating, but through all my hanging around on various sites and such, people always exclaimed that, "Everyone has had an accident in their lives!" And I always felt chastened, because I never had, and people seemed to think I was lying when I said so.

Anyway, as to the day and incident (accident) in question...

I was at work, and it was a very long day. We don't get a lunch hour or tea breaks, not as you would understand them. We get two fifteen-minute breaks over the course of six hours. The first break period arrived and I felt a slight twinge, indicating that I needed to relieve myself. However, I was sidetracked by something that came up (another drawback to my job is that we often end up using these precious break periods to make or take phone calls, or deal with other minutiae) and never got around to going to the toilet. Usually, if one goes after the break period is over, that isn't looked on as something bad, but our boss is pretty strict and gets into strange moods where any little infraction will set her off. So I decided that I could wait until the next break period, two hours later.

Two hours later, I had finished drinking my tea and was about to head to the bathroom when something stopped me. I just thought to myself, 'I wonder how long I can hold it?' And I just didn't go, but continued to chat to my colleagues in the break room.

Once the official working day was over, I once again started off for the bathroom, but stopped myself. 'Come on, you're not that desperate yet,' I thought to myself. 'You can wait some more.' So I went off to help with an hour of computer literacy classes in another part of the complex. Leaving the computer center, I was beginning to feel pretty desperate. Not at the 'holding yourself, legs crossed' stage, but I was getting there. I knew right then that I should just give up and go to the bathroom, but I didn't. I returned to my work area and proceeded to finish up some work.

I sat there initialing documents and completing forms, but eventually my need to pee began to rise. I *really* needed to go! And my work area was a long way from the bathroom! I looked at the time. I only had half an hour before I had to leave, so I thought that I'd just go to the bathroom on my way out of the complex. I continued to work, but now I was crossing my legs tightly.

Five minutes passed. Ten. I started to think that I'd never make it to the bathroom. Remember, my goal was to hold it as long as possible, not pee in my pants. The pressure on my full bladder was getting pretty bad. I had my legs crossed with my foot right around the back of my calf, that's how desperate I was. I'd like to say that I was crying with desperation, but I've always rather liked being desperate. Not as desperate as this, however! I started wondering why the hell I'd thought this was a good idea. By now twenty minutes had passed, and I was biting my lip with the effort of not peeing.

I started to pack up my things. And, as luck would have it, I sneezed. (I should mention that I work in a very dusty place. At the end of every workday, every single surface is covered with a thin layer of dust. Most of the people who work here have sinus problems.) I realized I was going to sneeze just as it happened, and though I crossed my legs tightly, I was too late to prevent some pee coming out. It wasn't that much, but before I could straighten up from the bent-over position I'd assumed to try and stem the pee, I sneezed again, and this time let out quite a lot! Because of my position, the pee did not make it to the back of my pants or down the legs, but was concentrated in the front crotch area. And I was wearing cream-colored pants!

But now I had a little relief from the pee that was now soaking the front of my panties and pants, and was able to finish packing up. What to do? I had no sweater I could drape over my arm. I had no large bag. All I could do was pull my long shirt down over my crotch area and hope that no one would see what I'd done.

I passed no one in the halls and made it to the bathroom, where I surveyed the damage- back of the pants - fine, except for a small dark spot in a delicate place. Front - *large* wet spot, but with none going down the legs. Thank goodness. I got myself out to the car by holding down my shirt, and when I passed someone, mumbling about food stains on it (to make it seem as though I was examining my shirt, not hiding the fact that I'd peed in my pants). I sat on top of a magazine on the way home, to protect the seat - a tactic that did work.

Once at home I rushed for the bathroom, but started peeing again before I even had my panties off, so I climbed into the bath and just let it go, soaking my panties right through. The relief I felt was immense!

Would I do it again? Well, as I said, I like being desperate, so I probably will. But peeing myself wasn't fun. Luckily the center was almost deserted when I left, or I would have been extremely embarrassed and humiliated. Next time I won't wait so long to go to the toilet. A sneeze might just derail my plans!

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