I’ve been working like a dog. An ugly dog with no personality. So, really, I’ve been working like a opossum.
Yeah, I said it.
For some reason, all of this work has made me all itchy to nest. I finally combined the poster and frame that have been leaning – together – against my wall for several weeks. I cleaned off my craft table. I organized my knitting (size 6 bamboo needle, where are you?). And … I cleaned out my medicine cabinet.
See, last night, in a burst of Cleaning Shit, I scraped a nice chunk of skin off my thumb. Oww. And so, as is my custom, I went to the bathroom sink and prepared the combination hot water / Bactine / Polysporin / Finding Nemo band-aid cure-all that has served me well. But in the midst of my Jesus-why-won’t-this-stop-bleeding panic, I realized that there was a slight problem with my first-aid supplies.
My Bactine expired in 2005. My Polysporin? 2004.
I can’t believe I’ve managed to keep myself alive for this long.
So, after eating Indian food last night, My Guy and I didn’t go on our usual date-night Target run. Oh, no. We went to the CVS next to the Indian restaurant and I stocked up on all manner of up-to-date first-aid supplies. Because I am one hot hot date, friends. Also? I love drug stores and find them wildly entertaining. Purchase pantyhose, a GI Joe action figure, and some Funyuns? Don’t mind if I do!
So, today, I decided to go through my entire stash of drugs. The good news is that all of the three boxes of Wal-Dryl (yeah, that would be off-brand Benadryl) are still fine. The bad news is that some of my band-aids were brown because they were so old. And I threw out not one but two large bottles of calcium supplements because, well, I forgot to prevent osteoporosis in 2003.
My recordholder was a package of Tylenol that expired in 2002. And, come to find out, drugs you buy in Mexico may or may not have expiration dates. Oh, Mexican FDA – you so crazy.
Side note: Ex-Ex, I miss your parents, the Coach bags your mom bought me for every holiday, and our trips to Mexico to buy prescription drugs. That is all. That Christmas your dad bought me a year’s supply of birth control pills for $19 is still my favorite holiday ever. But other than that? You suck. The end.
So, now I’m watching Hoarders and feeling more superior that usual on account of my tidy and mostly up-to-date meds. But lest you think I’m nuts? I kept the just-barely-expired prescription one-pill yeast infection treatment. Some things you just have to keep. Just in case.