I was going to reward myself with a nice home decorating magazine (I never buy them) and a package of gum (practically a necessity at this point), but their entire selection of magazines was People, InTouch, and something called Vanidade, which I'm going to guess isn't a journal of international affairs. Or, more to the point, a home decorating magazine. And I forgot about the gum.
Working on my self-discipline, I chewed up two orange dramamine tablets as soon as I got home. The chalky orangey stuff is frankly rather nauseating...and yet I felt somehow better not long after taking them. A few ounces of Diet Coke did wonders for my energy level, and I then put the laundry in the dryer and started a bleach load with some whites. (Is there a secret to getting pillows NOT to discolor? I absolutely hate that, but I can't wash them every week, they're feather. In fact, I am not confident they will survive this round.)
Diet Coke is a clear liquid. It's just really dark.
Once my stomach settles completely, I am going to have some more Golightly and grape juice. With ice. We shall see whether that stays down. AYWH, whoever gave you four gallons to drink is a bad human being.
In the mean time, I summoned my courage and read the instructions on the enema package (which I bought under the close supervision of a fellow shopper. If I see someone buying stuff in an embarrassing section of the store, I literally leave. Puritanical New Englander, whatever - did you want to make sure I bought the best brand?! I did uncharacteristically pass up the best deal, on a three-pack, as the idea that I might need three - or an "extra strength" one - was too traumatizing). Reading the package may be as far as I get with this today.
Have you ever read the outside of an enema package? Fleet, specifically. It offers two (only two) possible positions for self-administering an enema. They're about as difficult to figure out as when I read some book written by an evangelical doctor in the eighties (he wrote it in the eighties, I was then a small child and reading the Babysitters Club) trying to explain alternative sexual positions. I passed multivariable calculus and I can draw a hyperbolic paraboloid on a three-space graph, but this stuff - forget it. All I know is it sounds deeply disordered (I refer here to both the book and the enema package).
The instructions did, however, unexpectedly prompt an interesting revelation about fertility. It referred to the "knee-chest" position in conjunction with a drawing of a genderless (and apparently nude. Is this a requirement for enema administration?) person with his/her/its behind stuck all the way in the air, torso at an angle, face and knees on the ground. I understood the post-coital (sperm-encouraging) knee-chest position to be on your back with your knees on your chest. But I am always wrong about these sexual (and quasi-sexual) things. So which is it? Because my enema package says I may be a fertile person who doesn't know to have sex properly.
I think I've just gotten hits from google searches by about five million teenaged boys with poor decision-making skills. Word.