As most do, I visited my doctor for a yearly appointment. As most don’t, I had to return a few months later. My doctor went through the standard questions with me, however, when it came to my sexual activity, she improvised a little. “How long has it been since you’ve had sex? Months? Years? Decades?” I let her know it not been decades. As I left, she said, “Well, let’s keep our fingers crossed.” I quipped, “I’ll continue to keep my legs crossed.”
Then, I came home and, completely sober – because I can’t drink for ten days – sent a message to Alice on facebook about our cork ball crafts. “Alice, we must pant our balls and hang them to try prior to corking them. Damn.” Damn was right. My words were all wrong. As I’ve told a million people a million times, I drink for balance.
Alice came over and, as planned, we painted/panted our balls and then let them dry/try. We are anxiously awaiting the corking of them. “Will you be able to drink when I return next week?” she asked me. I counted my medications, then counted the days, “Maybe.” Alice looked more disappointed than me. In fact, the way she responded, one would think I couldn’t drink for months, years, decades, even.