Since I arrived in New York, I have been besieged by an unrelenting succession of chronic coughs, migraines, stomach viruses, and now– my crowning glory– a yeast infection (which I apparently picked up from the VAST AMOUNT of sex that I’ve been having).
I spent the better part of the day in a midtown emergency room in search of relief. Actually, I’m hesitant to call it the “better” part of the day although I did get to see someone projectile vomit which was actually pretty impressive. It literally flew across the entire room, splattering on five or six people. I’ve never seen anything like it. The girl in the stretcher next to me sounded like she might have had a yeast infection as well although she had a cute boyfriend holding her hand and I just had my Civil Procedure textbook and a growing sense of my aloneness in the world.
Anyway, four hours later they finally let me escape and I bought some over-the-counter yeast infection medicine which it turns out is actually just a tube of fire ants that you send crawling into your vagina. It’s pretty awesome. And by awesome I mean that I can’t walk or sit down.
In short, today was not exactly a highlight of my life.