Fun, Fun, Fun

I’m fasting.

Well, not exactly. I’m scheduled tomorrow for one of those exams that require you to, um, cleanse your innards, is probably the best way to put it. You know, it begins with ‘c’ and it ends with ‘py’ and it semi-sorta-kinda rhymes with colostomy. That’s right. One of those exams. The kind you never even had nightmares about until you were old enough to learn the meaning of the word “prostate”.

When I was young and read that word somewhere – in the newspaper, maybe – I always read it as “prostrate”, just as, for years, whenever I came across the word “pubic”, I read it as “public”. Okay, so you’re probably right to question my choice of reading material but, frankly, I think my relative innocence as to the subject matter is somewhat charming. Just as a fear of the boogeyman or the Thing under the bed is charming compared with a fear of the Hallucinating Madman with Nuclear Ambitions and his Incredibly Senile Interviewer, but I digress.

So, I’m fasting. And by fasting, I mean that I’m not partaking of anything solid, seedy, nutty, fatty or red. All that leaves me is water, ginger ale, some juices and broth. Sounds appetizing, doesn’t it? Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. I also have to take two bottles of something that’s designed – according to the instructions – to turn my stool the “consistency and color of urine”.

So yeah, this is fun.