All summer holidays are now booked! Woohoo! Can't wait! First
Spain and then Croatia, it's
going to be fabulous! I promise to tell you all about it when I get back. In
the mean time...
So seeing as I just moved, I needed to register with the local doctor. You, my lovely mystery reader, already know I don't tend to have the easiest experiences with those related to the medical profession ( see previous post The Removal of Wisdom). I knew it wasn't going to be a smooth process the moment I was presented with a small sterile pot. I assumed in my head what it may be for but I didn't want to say in out loud, in fear that I may be correct. Alas, I was. I was required to pee in this pot *shudder*. Never have I been asked to bottle my bodily fluids so naturally, I freaked out a little. Okay, maybe quite a bit. Alright, I was totally freaking out!
Times like these I wish I was a man. When it comes to peeing, they have it easy. I don't think they fully appreciate the difficulty that falls upon women when it comes to aiming their own urine into a small pot. Then comes the problem of making sure the label doesn't get wet so that you can write your name on it after. Next thing that I couldn't quite get the hang of was how much do I fill the pot up? And how do I stop once it's full? Because, when the floodgates are open, there is no holding it back. After a mini pep talk with myself, and I calculated the mechanics of the operation in store, it was carried out successfully. All that careful planning was worth it.
To top it off, my actual appointment at the doctor's surgery wasn't so comfortable either but because I want to entice you, my dear reader into reading more things by moi I'm going to leave this on an incredibly dramatic cliff hanger.....