Ok, so I have a UTI, and this particular infection can only occur 1 of 3 ways. I will speak to them all in hopes I can discover which is the culprit. And then I will drink still more cranberry juice while flipping of my urethra.
- I somehow managed to get some poo poo up into the pee pee slot, which is UNACCEPTABLE and will not be tolerated. I must have a word with my special border patrol asshole and remind him that it is his job to deal with all things shit-related, and he is UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES to defer shit-related duties to the fancy flamenco dancer vulva down the street. This might have happened because of a Sart which is a 'seated fart'. A Sart should not be confused with a Shart because a Sart does not involve fecal matter, merely the gaseous vapors which pass over and around said fecal matter. A Sart does involve discomfort because when you fart while sitting down, the fart has nowhere to go but forward, and the fart becomes a Sart just at the moment is passes over your special lady bits (think the guys with pink eye in Knocked Up). Men experience Sarts just as often, however they are fortunate in that their special gentleman bits are located in an entirely separate location.
- I am a serial pee-holder, primarily because I drink a lot of fluids and that results in an exorbitant number of trips to the bathroom (I think my co-workers think I have Krone's) and sometimes I just DON'T WANT TO FUCKING PEE AGAIN JESUS I JUST PUT ON LOTION, WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO PEE AFTER I PUT ON LOTION? So I hold it. This is especially true in the middle of the night (every single night) and if I find that I can ignore the urge and fall back into Happy Porno Dream Land, well then I do. Until my dream incorporates the urge into the porno and all of a sudden I'm halting production because I have to pee but somehow I can't find a bathroom in the MOTEL ROOM and to make matters worse, the fluffer is yelling at me to hurry up because her arm is getting fucking tired, jesus christ, she doesn't get paid enough for this. Then I wake up and shake my fist at my urethra and declare that I'm only doing this so I can rest peacefully afterwards, not for the sake of my stupid Barbie-sized bladder. All this time, I thought holding my pee was a muscle-enhancing exercise similar to a kegel, but continuous. I learned yesterday that I should stop attributing toning qualities to things that do exactly the opposite of toning, and that by holding my pee all the time, my bladder has become weak like the Canadians and can no longer push out all the pee, so it stays put and infects me. It's times like these I wish I were married to a pharmacist.
There's really no way to know which of these three is responsible for the fact that I now feel like I am in desperate need of a bathroom. Every. Single. Minute. of the day. What I can tell you is that my special border patrol asshole has been demoted to just asshole. Asshole.