Latrine

I had a really odd dream last night. It was all about my toilet-cleaning experiences while in the Army. Least said, soonest mended.

But the funny thing was that my old platoon sergeant's face and voice made guest appearances. And in that dream, he was saying something like, "The word 'latrine' has nothing to do with 'worship', you moron!"

Then the scene shifted to a meeting room that some people know altogether too well. In that meeting room, rounded rattan chairs have been known to cradle large-bottomed vessels to sleep, as they dock like sleepy barges on the banks of the stream of consciousness... whoops, almost docked myself there.

But the funny thing this time was that there was this guy who was going on and on and on in the most moronic way about short-term goals and long-term goals and stretch goals. And I was getting really angry with him, for some strange reason, and my blood pressure was rising and I felt my heart rate go up, and I drew out an ivory pointer which I just knew was a deadly weapon capable of taking out the most moronic foe with a blast of lightning... and I woke up, my heart pounding in the early hours of the morning.

Strangely enough, the 'latrine' part stuck in my mind. No, I don't have a toilet mind; but I do have an etymological mind. You see, latreuo in Greek means 'I worship'. But the word 'latrine' comes from the Latin, and is related to lavator, 'one who bathes (or washes)'. It's from the same Latin root as 'lavatory', 'a room in which one bathes (or washes)'. So...

Yes, Sergeant! 'Latrine' has nothing to do with 'worship', Sergeant! I am a moron if I think so, Sergeant!

Heh.