The past month has brought with it not only tidings of comfort and joy, but also many germs and bugs and trips to various doctor's offices. We've all been on two rounds of different anti-biotics and symptomatic relievers. Yesterday I made yet another journey to the doctor and passed my time flipping through some magazines. I came across a "quiz" in one of them--"What does your nightstand say about you". I scanned it--I always find the quizzes amusing and worry that there may actually be people out there that take them to heart.
That evening when I finally made my way up to my bedroom and flipped on my light, my eyes went right to my bedstand, and I had to start laughing. It seemed to be screaming: "You haven't had sex in a very long time, and you may never again".
Contents of aforementioned stand:
An appalling pile of wadded up tissues (completely inexcusable, I know)
Vicks Vapo Rub
Empty bottle of Tylenol
Wooden cigar box holding various fingernail utilities (file, polish, bobby pin?)
Picture of the A's
The Poetry and Short Works of Dorothy Parker (died alone, with her dog)
Bridget Jones Diary (dog-eared pages, possible margarita stains)
Vanity Fair magazine
Definitely not in the "Sexy Susan" category. I put away the meds and tossed the tissues; this morning I even put the books in my bookcase in my room. I figured I could use the exercise when I got out of bed tonight to retrieve them.