1/4 Gallon of Pee


You wanna know what's sweet?

Peeing into a cup at the doctor's office.

Especially when they hand you a half-gallon (or what appears to be) jar and say:

"So I'm gonna need that at least half full."

No problem. I've been storing up exactly 1/4 gallon of my pee just for this occasion.

To be fair, though, the woman who inserted an especially sharp needle into the inside part of my elbow nook this morning did an excellent job. She found one of my mystery veins immediately and only poked me once!

I was very proud of her.

How's my busy Friday been going, you ask?

Eh, it's been alright. How's yours?

Work has been crazy, but its been getting done and I'm getting things in before their deadline - PLUS (!) one of my calls got cancelled. So that was pretty sweet.

I'm having dinner with one of my very good friends from college - who also happens to be male - and this has been a major point of contention between Cute Boy and me today.

I mean MAY-JAH.

So may-jah, in fact, that I don't even feel comfortable blogging about it (yet) because the aforementioned contention is still fresh and not exactly resolved yet.


Not that I don't know where Cute Boy's coming from. A few months ago, one of his ex-girlfriends called him up and wanted to get lunch. He invited me to come, but I decided to pass on that little reunion.

In the end, he didn't even end up meeting up with her, so this is all a moot story, but my point is that I do understand the uncomfortableness of having your significant other out alone with the opposite sex.

However - in my case, its just a friend from school and in his case, it was an ex-girlfriend. A crazy ex-girlfriend, but an ex-girlfriend nonetheless.

Look at me! I am blabbing away even though the MAY-JAH contention still hangs above my head.

Sorry, Cute Boy. Next time I'll just stick to the pee.


Paige Jennifer said...

Peeing into a cup is the biggest pain in the ass. I always, and I mean always, dribble somewhere on my hand and the exterior of the container. Then I have to rinse everything down and tidy it up. Thirty minutes later I finally exit the toilet with the damp jar wrapped in paper towels and I meekly mumble an apology.