Black for funerals, and exams

**This post is all crap, most of which you don't care to read or think about. I actually sat here for e few minutes trying to decide whether or not to hit publish, but fuck it, might as well. Then again, we're all so captivated by certain bloggers and their bowel movements, this can't be worse than that. Proceed at your own risk**

Prepare your nicest black clothes, I think I'm dying. Really, I'm certain my time has come, exhibited by the nightly 3am wake-up. Every night, after I go to sleep, suddenly awake, and toss around in bed like a fish on land for a couple hours. Fine, I could deal with that. Then, after feeling like Grade A Shit yesterday, I went to bed, woke up, and puked up everything I'd eaten in the last 3 days. Isn't that fun?? Yay for puking!! Maybe it's sympathy puking for her, or maybe I'm really just gonna die. As if that wasn't exciting enough, I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon. (Boys: Close your eyes and stick your fingers in your ears, LALALALALA) Not the fun doctor to make the puking stop, no... this is my yearly exam with the "woman doctor". Yay for spectulums!! Anyway, there are currently ads running on the radio for prostate cancer awareness, telling men to get checked. Nate freaks out at this concept. "I don't want to let the doctor stick his finger up my butt!!" My answer to this is "I will spend the majority of my life letting a doctor go exploring in my cooch every year. You'll take the finger up the butt and like it, dammit. It's only after age 45 or so, where I've been going to the gyno since I was SIXTEEN, and will for a few more decades. Shut up." I'm such a nice, loving wife, huh? (Cue evil, cackling laugh)