I often have no filter. The thoughts in my head find their way out of my mouth and people react with shock, laughter, a questioning shake of the head, or prayers for my soul. Today was no exception when I was asked “what’s it like inside your head?”
My response, as I was drinking my Simply Balanced sparkling grapefruit water from Target: well, I need to go to Target this weekend, because if I don’t go this weekend the next time I have free time for a weekend in SLC is the weekend of July 14th. One of my friends sent me a snap of her daughter asking how I liked her Ana braids, and even though I have NEVER seen the movie Frozen in its entirety, now the song “Do You Want to Build a Snowman” is stuck in my head, except the words are “do you want to go to Target.”
They looked at me, blinked, and then said “Wow, that’s not what I expected to hear.” I’m pretty sure they won’t be asking what it’s like in my head again, because the truth is, sometimes it’s just a hot mess.
Can somebody please explain to me why you can walk in to ANY pharmacy anywhere in the country and buy Plan B immediately, over the counter, without a prescription, BUT God forbid you want a refill on your Diflucan and you’re out of them, AND the prescription hasn’t been filled in over a year. No…then you need to wait around ALL day to see if your doctor’s office called one in, which they didn’t so now, thanks to your shitty HDHP, you have to make an appointment (or stop in to an urgent care clinic), pay $30-230, depending on how they bill it, sit around for an hour, most likely in one of those drop dead sexy open back gowns, only to have a PA tell you “Yep, here’s your prescription.” AND THEN you get to pay for the prescription on top of that.
Female anatomy is such bullshit sometimes. Seriously, all of the fun things in life have the potential to wreak havoc on you. You want to soak in a hot bath after blowing a whole wad of cash on bath bombs at Lush , go for a run, hit the hot tub, maybe have a little fun with someone, go for a run again in the morning, then slip in to your favorite skinny jeans for the day? There’s a prescription for that, and you’re going to want it, because the OTC treatment for the perfect combination of relaxing/enjoyable weekends is a joke.
Anatomically speaking, there’s no doubt guys have it easier when it comes to healthcare. As far as it goes for the ladies, you can buy Plan B over the counter, but you need a prescription for Diflucan. THIS is exactly how you know that ALL of the rules governing women’s healthcare were made up by a man. It kinda makes you want to just tell them to stay the hell out of your lady business doesn’t it? Except, what would be the fun in that? 😉