I had a bad day. It was actually something I noticed yesterday while in the shower, but today, I was in pain. An…icky sort of pain. As the afternoon progressed, I decided it was time for a little self diagnosis via the internet, and that was a huge mistake. My suspicion was that I had developed a common ailment that you think happens only to other people (correction: other older people). But I guess if it only happened to other people, they wouldn’t have so many commercials for Preparation H. Anyway, my advice to those who think they may need some of this concoction: do not research it. I winced through the description of symptoms (which I do not have all of). I covered my face and peered through my fingers at the screen as I read how they are officially diagnosed, and I nearly puked and cried at the same time as I viewed awful awful illustrations. I only made it through one sentence about the surgical procedures. I did not feel I could handle any more research, and I decided that some medicated wipes and some prune juice couldn’t hurt, despite my lack of all the symptoms (thank the lord). And, I figured I would take the opportunity to stop at the Rite Aid next to the liquor store and pick up a case of brew.
I left work at 5:08pm and arrived in the parking lot 19 minutes later at 5:27. I took a deep breath as I reached for my purse and realized it was still at work. This was extremely disappointing. If I had been there solely for the beer, I would have just gone home and resolved to get my purse the next day. But I had other purchases to make. So, 22 minutes later (5:49), I arrived back at work. Back on the road at 5:50, and at 6:08 I found myself back in the Rite Aid/Liquour Store parking lot. (Note that it only took 16 minutes the second time – at least I know which route is fastest.)
I figured I would get it over with and went to Rite Aid first, where I was confronted with an entire aisle dedicated to this ailment. It took me nearly 10 minutes to choose an appropriate medication, and another uncomfortable 8 minutes of standing in line behind a woman who apparently does all of her grocery shopping at Rite Aid – if half gallons of whoppers and packages of gummy worms could be considered groceries. At the liquor store, I chose a variety pack of Sam Adams Homebrew Winners (a grape pale ale – a substitute for fruit juice?).
Six minutes later, I was gratefully home at 6:42. The medicated pads seem to be working well, but don’t worry: I won’t keep you posted.