There’s this birth control pill that makes you only have four periods a year. You’re welcome. I think it’s intended for women who are just so freaking busy that they can’t be bothered with bodily functions. These are probably the same people who take DriUp tablets so they don’t have to urinate as often, too. Here’s the catch with this God-doesn’t-know-what-He’s-doing-with-our-plumbing-so-we’re-gonna-change-things-up-a-bit pill: it makes you have four periods a year, but it’s the same amount of blood. Read the fine print. So instead of having one period a month, you have three periods all at the same time, once per fiscal quarter. You basically sit in a kiddie pool for a week of your life, four times a year, wallowing in your own filth.
That’s what it’s like when I get sick. Well, without the kiddie pool. But still going with the wallowing in filth, especially since I can’t remember how long it’s been since I brushed my teeth and I might have been wearing this same shirt for three days now.
I never get sick. Ever. My immune system is so good, I could lick shopping carts in the Walmart parking lot and nothing would happen to me. So when I do get sick, it’s probably from bubonic plague or some disease that’s been wiped out in every country on Earth except for three small ones where you still buy your bride after checking her teeth.
But now, it’s happened. I have my tri-annual illness, and this time it’s really trying to kill me. I have self-medicated with hot tea and with whiskey, (not always at the same time, but sometimes) and I invested in a menthol vapor thing for my bedroom. I cough up stuff, I sneeze out stuff, and now, thanks to lack of exercise and the birth of two children, I pee stuff when I cough. I’m just going to go ahead and sit in the kiddie pool and ride this one out.