This is, of course, without question the busiest time of year for me. In addition to taking care of my own holiday and family obligations, I work many nine ‘til one AM days, and potentially seven days of the week. I’m not going to cry about that. There is little in this world as irritating as listening to someone complain about their chosen line of work (“waa waa. My decisions have consequences. waa waa. My vagina is sore.”). Still, it kind of pisses me off that my body has chosen NOW to get sick. Waking up with a 101 temperature and facing a sixteen hour workday, when the only justifiable way to call out is if a mortician signs your note, is no fun at all. Add to that, a crucial part of my job description is to seem as pleasant and NOT disease ridden as humanly possible. Dog-hard sixteen hour days are one thing; dog-hard sick-as-a-dog sixteen hour days where you have to hide your sick-as-a-dogness from the public is another, especially considering that my natural inclination is to turn into the world’s biggest vulva whenever I feel under the weather. But, much like I was saying before, there is little in this world as irritating as listening to anybody whine about ANYTHING on the internet (“waa waa. I’m not as happy right now as a bowl of marshmallows and sunshine. waa waa. My vagina is sore.”)

It could be worse. I could have children.

But, just to make what to me is an unusual observation about my own physiology, a combination of the exhaustion and the sickness, has, for two days and for the first time in my life, completely eradicated anything in my psyche remotely resembling a sex drive. Given my current social situation, this is hardly a big deal. I’m sure Lefty is feeling very neglected right now. But this is an unfamiliar and somewhat bizarre experience for me. For instance and as a hypothetical, if God decided pay me early and sent my 72 nude celestial virgins to my bedroom, with the lead virgin holding a box of donuts, my only reaction would be “Oh look. Donuts!”

Just to digress for a moment, what is the deal with the 72 virgins thing anyway? Shouldn’t God be rewarding the righteous with 72 women who have a little more experience? Heaven can’t possibly have social diseases. 72 virgins just sounds like a huge pain in the ass to me. It would be like house training 72 puppies. Of course, I have no sex drive right now, so perhaps I’m just over thinking this.

Besides, who am I to question God?