Thank fuck for small favors! Today I was dreading the speculum and the swabbing. Ouch. I’m getting tested because Benedick Cumberwad is asking/demanding that I get tested. Like I’m some diseased whore. Ok. So I was really glad to discover that now it is all done with blood and urine samples. Much less dreadful.
Modern medicine is improving. Modern dating is not. It’s a fucking nightmare much of the time. But I didn’t have to feel that giant Q-tip scraping my cervix so for that I’m grateful.
And tomorrow is Friday, and I get to see ballet boy, who doesn’t think I’m a diseased whore at all. Yay!
I wish Benedick Cumberwad would stop acting like a total dick. I wish this all hadn’t blown up in my face. I wish a lot of things, all of them completely useless.
I do know that having a very sweet, funny, smart, and sexy man to look forward to seeing is the thing to focus on. And I am. Mostly. As much as I can. I actually can’t wait to see him, when we’re together I don’t think about Benedouche Cumstain at all. I might be able to have multiple partners but I’m always completely present with the one I’m with at the time. I’m getting tiny butterflies just thinking about how nice it will be to see him. And kiss him.
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.