I realized I hadn’t taken a bath in a while, and I think I was sad about something. So I took a bath. I rocked it out pretty hard in there (meaning I laid down and sat motionless for twenty minutes) and so I repeated the next day, and the day after that. I probably got four in five days.

Then I left for the blog convention in Las Vegas.

To explain what I think happened next is to talk briefly about something that transpired  unfortunately  when I was twenty. I was working out with a trainer very intensely and I tore my urethra. Leave your jokes at the door, because I know where you just went. It turns out you’re supposed to breathe out when you exert force, not in. So I was doing the bench press and breathing in when I should have been breathing out. I’ll save the details for another dedicated post to this story, but suffice it to say, the pressure localized in my John Thomas (best expression for it ever) and somehow it tore.

Now, let’s continue the story.

I’ve always been super sensitive to pressure when flying. My ears used to burn like crazy when I was a child and it can still get to me even now. I take a decongestant (actually a whole bunch of ’em) before a flight just to loosen up the old sinuses. I’ve never had an allergy, broken bone or major health issue, but I do get pain in my sinuses if I don’t take the meds.

Well, this time I forgot to bring the pills with me.

I noticed a little pressure in my sinuses on takeoff. No big deal as it didn’t hurt but I was worried about landing. Landing is always the worst for us ear-burners. And then for some reason I needed to pee three different times in the three hour flight. I reviewed my morning intake of food and drink. I had cereal and an egg McMuffin. A small water. That was all. I don’t normally urinate five times (I did two before flying) before 1pm. I just sort of found it interesting.

As we landed the pressure was a little rough, but not painful.

Later that evening I noticed I had been peeing all day long and that, please forgive me here, there started to be a little tiny bit of discomfort the moment I started going. Only like a .5 on the pain scale of ten, kind of like a little pinch. And only lasted for a second, at the beginning. Now, this has never happened before. I didn’t think too much about it and settled in for a bath. In a hotel bath that may or may not have been scrubbed prior to me sliding in.

All throughout the conference I noticed I had to go more often than usual. I was also slamming tons of water, though, as it was available in every discussion room. Each time I noticed that slight pinch and I finally realized something was up.

Not sure whether it was the many baths on  consecutive days or the air pressure, but I think I may have a UTI.

I didn’t even know dudes could get those. It’s either that or I tore my John Thomas again. Either way, something is up. Well, not up. Kind of down and broken.

When I flew in today I started thinking that I should go to the doctor but I’m too busy until next week. Then I remembered that chicks do tons of cranberries when it happens to them. I should have Google’d it because I was wrong on two counts. First, cranberries are only for preventing UTIs, and second research has come out that suggest it does nothing to prevent the infection.

I ran to the grocery after work and picked up a bottle of the pills. Also a POM juice with cranberries in it.

I will definitely get myself to the doctor if it doesn’t heal because, well, hey, it’s the John Thomas. Plus, after this cranberry thing, I’m all out of ideas. Hopefully it’s not something un-awesome like a kidney stone. Although that would give me some decent blog material.

So, I either tore my d or gave myself a UTI. Or maybe I’ve got the gout. Who knows? Either way, here’s what my next few days are going to look like, even though there’s no evidence to suggest it will help.

It’s something small that I do for myself every morning.  Actually I do three things that are healthy.

• Play with my cat using DaBird, the greatest cat toy ever made.
• Eat a thing of yogurt and drink some POM juice.
• Make my lunch for the day.

I still need to add-in “make the bed.”  That would be great.  But also it would take another two minutes away from my awesome morning nightmares, and who wants to give that up?

I’ve learned that for me, it’s the small ways I take care of myself that yield the best results.  For example, it’s not that I ran the extra mile on the treadmill that I couldn’t do the week prior, but that I got myself to gym when I really didn’t want to.

My life’s challenges revolve almost exclusively for me being unkind to myself.  When I was younger I didn’t like myself because I wasn’t getting all As.  Nor did I think I was in any way handsome.  Or that if I tried harder, I’d be better at sports.  In short, I learned how to be cruel in my  assessments  of myself.

So far, shaming myself to do better has rarely yielded me positive results.  I grew up thinking if I just pushed a little harder I would achieve all that I believed I was capable of.  I never learned that it might be okay to be where I currently am at this moment.

I was afraid that if I gave up the shame that my motivation to improve and achieve would go away.  I’m still afraid of that.  But that is probably untrue.  What seems to work is to do little things that are good for me, and that are esteemable acts.  Like bringing the lunch to work.  I feel good about myself which then leads me to other behaviors where I feel good.

By the way, I pack a few turkey sandwiches in plastic  Tupperware  things and put that in a cooler bag like below.  Then I carry it on the subway, dangling from my hand like a purse.  I never see anyone else doing this.  It’s not cool.

Plus, I actually feel GOOD about myself preparing a meal the night before.  I wish in high school instead of Honors Civics I could have taken a “Ways to Take Care of Yourself That Will Feel Good” class.  In the syllabus…

• Cleaning the condo
• Flossing at night
• Hitting the gym
• Drinking a shitload of water
• Sending random thank you cards to friends
• Getting 9 hours of sleep

You get it.  Anyway, this morning, instead of making a nice breakfast of yogurt and POM juice, I had six slices of leftover pizza from the night before.  Also breadsticks.

This day has basically turned into a day of little to no production, as my body is unhappy of what I did to it.  And, I’m ashamed to say that I just realized I did not leave the house.  Ouch.

So, I’m signing off as this day was clearly a failure.  We all have them.  I’m going to put on the sleep mask my girlfriend sent me for Easter, and drift off to slumber.  Where I will undoubtedly dream of the big exam I am taking even though I skipped class all semester.  When I die I’ll have to thank God that 15 years after I graduated from college, that still comes up several times a week.  Thanks, jerk!