Abstinence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder... And The Body Stay Clean

As I lingered in the patient room at CareNow in Fort Worth, I had to tell a nurse, whom I have met for the first time, about the act of indiscretion that landed me in her place of employment.  And I tell the story about how my ex, who shall be referred to as Becky, dropped a bombshell on me last week about how she had been tested positive for genital herpes and that I should be checked out, too.  As I am telling this to the nurse while trying to maintain a sense of humor about it all and not trying to call Becky a whore at the same time.

Did I mention I had a lingering sore throat, too? (Let's hope the two are not related. At least I don't have strep.)

My mind started to wander, as it always does in these situations, right into "where did I go wrong" or  "why is it I always have this kind of bad luck."  Can I not be with a woman and not have to deal with these types of issues?  I have had a couple of scares in the past but not with something penicillin won't cure.  

Honestly, this is where the rubber meets the road.  The first thing I had to admit, somewhat publicly I might add, is that I had sex, I had sex with a carrier of a virus that won't go away. I am imagining the Valtrex commercial and how people seem to be happy living with genital herpes except that won't be me.  No, I'm too busy beating myself up for not having the discipline to say no to someone who I had some very obvious questions about in the first place.  I knew the risk and took it anyway and it makes me no better than her in the end.

The second thing is possible treatment.  Again, I'm imagining the Valtrex commercial and how they say 70% of people with genital herpes get it from their partner when there were no obvious signs and symptoms.  However, there is Valtrex.  Now I am thinking and have to plan on more doctor visits and more in co-pays on my insurance. Fortunately I have an employer that can help me with this on a Cafeteria Plan and I won't have to pay taxes on that money.

The third thing was bringing this up to the redhead, who surprisingly took it well.  She acknowledges that it can be treated with medication and we will be able to deal with it but the guilt I have for exposing the love of my life to this is a little overwhelming.  The last thing I want to do is harm another human being through my actions and especially in this way.

So... there I am sitting in the patient room... What next?  It's the waiting for the test results in a few days.  

You know, kids, there is something to be said for abstinence.  It works 100% every time it's tried.

Cheatin' Like In A Country Song

     "Well how do I know, I'm not there with you," this is a common complaint among women today and a few men. People are never sure of what their beloved, other half, girlfriend, boyfriend, lover, or romantic acquaintance is doing behind or in front of their backs. There is a more common story about the guy who went to war and came back to a girl who is no longer his fiance but had married someone else. This theme was popular in 1920's movies, now it seems to be much more fashionable to go on Craigslist and make new friends who all believe in time that they are each your fiance or romantic attachment. This is true for guys and girls, but it is not any less shameful when a person needs their friends to become their own private investigators so when your fiance gets tired of you and doesn't have the guts to break up with you before they go and find new fiances to string along.

   As much as I would like to require that every human being wear an ankle tracking device, this will not solve the problem of 'cheatin' achy-breaky hearts while all my exes live in Texas'. How can real relationships be formed if the sneaky people won't stop treating the hopeful people like chew toys because they are bored? Or is any relationship really safe if one person is always suspicious without reason and the other person works like a dog trying to be transparent and honest, and the suspicious one is usually the guilty one who is running around all over town. 

   This is usually the point on Dr. Phil, Oprah, or Jerry Springer where each side starts yelling and pointing fingers at the other while blasting profanity, accusations, and a lot of whiny crying. Each side is so perfect in their kind of wrong that the watcher stops caring who is right or wrong because truth is only in the eye of the beholder. It's kind of funny that's it's only after you start 'seeing someone' that they think that they have to hold you accountable of where you have been, who you talk to, and fact checking all of your stories while checking your cell phone. Then if you can still tolerate this juvenile behavior they start the same censorship of your credit cards, bills, and paycheck. What trust is there in that? Why all of this guilt-induced nagging? Bad behaviors are a sign of bad habits, and these should be fixed. 

   You meet someone, they want to get really personal really fast, as if it is their life's goal to own you, I think people call this being wanted. Then you get drugged on the feeling of being wanted and ignore all the other crazy manipulative crap that goes on because you are wanted....I mean owned by another person. Usually the owning type is a life time collector of other people's lonely hearts, then the relationship gets even more personal and emotionally abusive with your credit card history thrown in. This is no better than a self inflicted cycle of abuse, and you were conned by a soul collector who saw you coming a mile away. 

   A long time acquaintance of mine had a son who was a civilian special ops contractor, he found a sweet girl, then he was shipped out to Afghanistan for six months. When he got back, his fiance had a different fiance and two other boyfriends that she had found online. This poor boy thought love was somewhere in the equation of his life, instead he was conned by a soul collector with a pretty face and body. Then there was my own ex-wife who constantly claimed she couldn't prove I wasn't cheating because she was not with me 24 hours a day, and in the end I found out that she was the one sleeping with anything that would move while I driving the truck across country. This was not true love, because true love does not hurt others on purpose. There is that part of your soul that wants to feel something other than the freedom of the open road, and even if it's hurtful and negative always seems better than feeling nothing at all. Be smarter than this.

     Stay in school, do your home work, so when your friends find things out of where your sweet heart has been, the conversation will never bring up Craigslist.

No Rest For The Self Inflicted

     It is commonly understood that if you are tired then you should sleep. Yet even from a young we constantly fight the urge to stop, lay down, rest, then fall into actual sleep. Mother's across America will tell you, "He/she didn't have their nap today and they woke up at 4 o'clock in the morning, they're just tired. That's why they look miserable and are crying on and off uncontrollably," as you look at the mother who wants to act the same way her child is from her own sleep loss.
     Then you have the hard working adult who 'just wants one more minute' they tell themselves, for those few extra miles, for that last finishing touch on a craft project, for that last part of a TV program, for whatever those last few moments are for to stop us from letting go and getting the much needed rest.
     Many truck drivers have been know to drive illegally for 20 hours straight, this means that they are willing to ignore the laws that protect their sleep and safety. The same can be said for crafters and mothers a like who are finishing Christmas pageant costumes, cupcakes for a class bake sale, and any general illness that claims to only last for '24 hours' per family member. These are some of the simple things that we do or can't avoid to post pone sleep for the self inflicted.
     We live in a culture that is so sleep deprived with Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts, and Seven 11's that real rest is no longer valued. It's really hard to give a damn when you are too tired to smell the roses, and coffee really can burn out your taste buds so a steak will never taste the same again. What else are you willing to miss out on because so many pieces of yourself are too tired to enjoy them from your self inflicted lack of rest?
     We have become a culture of sleep apnea and obsession with instant gratification and ignoring our personal needs. Ever make a list of all the things you are too tired to do? This does not include joining a gym, going for daily walks, or eating healthier. This means doing things with other people, going places to be with other humans, and screwing your better half every night. They say that the evidence is in the details, and screwing is such an interesting detail to have in your life. Now get back on your treadmill, you need just one more minute on that computer, just one more minute with your hot glue gun, just one more minute......Zzzzzzzz

Propane Tank In Paris

   Today I left a warm bodied red head sleeping in my bed, who woke up when I kissed her, grabbed my shirt and pulled me in closer. My mind is only a blur of this image as I drive to Paris Texas to install a propane tank. There is a ziplock bag of orange craisin scones complete with white glaze sitting on the seat next to me, she insists that she is not Martha Stewart, but my recent weight loss due to her cooking says otherwise. I don't think Hank Hill knows what it means to really be a propane guy, he doesn't deliver the gas, drive the transports, or set up the holding tanks all over Texas.
   The red head will be taking pictures for me today so that more items can be sold on Ebay, she says that the pictures are the contract between you and the buyer. I have a very efficient legal agent. These are some of the little things she does not make me not want to work today. She makes doing nothing the most desirable thing in the world...my memories of her include images of the naked photo shoot Marilyn Monroe did before she died...except I could touch her, and she made lasagna. I really don't want to work today.
   She makes being a truck driver painful, that every mile between means just as many that I have to travel back to reach a hot meal, quiet house, and a very relaxing bed. We truck drivers don't have many luxuries in life that happen on a daily basis, we have to wait until we are allowed to stop moving long enough to make the time to enjoy them. We crash a lot, as in we work until we can't go any more then we crash from the shear exhaustion and don't get to use or see much of the humanity around us, thus we are a little socially malnourished. Last night I crashed into bed, so tired and dead asleep, that I never heard my red head get out of the shower and come to bed looking like Marilyn Monroe from that photo shoot. This is just one of the many ways I feel as if death is winning and life lost a point in this game.
   Later we will talk antiques, shipping, billing fees, bubble wrap, and the cost of packaging peanuts, then how my hands hurt and that my shoulder is acting up. She will make me an ice wrap and massage a few of the hurt areas with her elbows, then put me to bed. If I don't start snoring within the first two minutes, she will run her nails over my skin and melt me like butter....this is when I am no longer a truck driver and do not have the mental capacity to decide anything. I am going to die now in the arms of a red head. Don't try and stop me....she made barbecue chicken.