Bedwetter I

In her dreams, all bathrroms are labyrinths. Each one is different. Sometimes with white square tiles spanning endlessly in a network of private stalls. Sometimes with dirty wet floors; urinals and stalls separated by moats of septic refuse. She searches for the perfect toilet. Once found and seated, she's often partially, if not totally, exposed to those passing by. It takes a long time to get a trickle going, if at all. Then she wakes up in her own warm puddle.