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spending those uro-dollars

I’ve been incommunicado this week mostly out of distraction. There is nothing like the sensation of spewing magma from your privates for getting your mind right, and as mind-rightness goes, mine’s right as rain.

Passing that stone a while back turned out to be a unique event, but one that inspired a succession of unique events such as doctor visits for ultrasound tests, uroflow tests, bloodletting, and various appendage manipulations, all performed by the keen and icy hands of a men trained to do that sort of thing.

Right now, Sunday evening, I’m in the middle of preparing for a visit to the hospital tomorrow morning for some x-rays. My weenie man (that’s Dr. Weenie Man to you) wants to see if my kidneys are making any more stones. As a result of this impending exam, I am currently on a fasting regimen, all part of a "bowel cleansing system" according to a packet that was handed to me along with my paperwork for the x-ray tomorrow. This kit contains the procedure and schedule for the 24-hour period before the x-rays, as well as a package of powdered effervescent laxative, four tiny pills, and another dose of laxative which comes in the form of a non-oral delivery system that resembles a Scud missile quite closely.

I’ve had no food since Saturday night and right now it’s 4:30pm on Sunday. If you can procure a small cheeseburger for me immediately I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Here are my keys. Use the back door. Maybe some fries. Oooh, get some almond duck too, at the Chinese place. Extra sauce. Or the sesame chicken, either one. Thanks, you’re a doll.

Fortunately, in about a half-hour I’ll be able to feast on some broth, unsweetened fruit juice, plain gelatin, and tea. I’m mad with anticipation.

And I’m losing the ability to type with any enthusiasm.

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While the Gnomes of Journaldom may frown upon me for kicking updates down a notch on the list of priorities, the break has gotten me somewhat out of the journal-keeping doldrums that I’ve found myself in lately. Judging from the apparent wave of vanishings, Springtime has sprinkled the spores of re-evaluation onto the well-gnarled foreheads of many online diarists, and mine is no exception. My mind had some clear space and time to think about changes I want to make on this site. Do not be alarmed. I’m staying. Yay me.

There may be a short break coming, however. The middle of this month will mark the one-year anniversary of Evaporation, and it seems like as good a time as any to have the carpets cleaned around here. The exact dates and changes are still in the formative stages, but generally speaking the hiatus will last for a couple three weeks after which I’ll return tanned and rejuvenated.

Or, I may not take that tack at all. Maybe I’ll just keep sailing along without interruption, paddling through my own mediocrity, watching the soggy toast float by, telling my tales of domestic yawning, and pissing the occasional rock. I don’t know. I can’t say, really. I'm a smidge lightheaded just now. I’ll have to put a pin in this one, put this in abeyance, back-burner the proposal, shelve it, table it, put it in a baggie and freeze it, throw it in a skillet and simmer...

All I know right now is that it is of the utmost importance that you remember to bring the extra sauce.

Okay, I’m going now before the furniture starts dancing. Or I eat it.

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today's music:

"That's How The Yodel Was Born" -- Riders In The Sky -- BEST OF THE WEST

today's wisdom:

"Do not think of the fruit of action.
Fare forward."

- T.S. Eliot (The Dry Salvages)