Ok, so if you're easily grossed out by issues regarding feminine hygiene, I suggest you avert your eyes from the rest of the post. It's ok, I won't think any less of you. Go on, scoot.

All right. So, it turns out that I will actually be seeing my doctor earlier than Friday--tomorrow morning, in fact. Not for fertility issues, but because I have an icky yeast infection that is just not going away. I get them a couple times a year--have done ever since I was 19 years old. Usually I treat them with over the counter stuff and they go away. But once in a while I get one that hangs on tenaciously. This one has resisted both the 1-day and the 7-day creams. And, as those of you who've been in this boat know, you are not allowed to have sex during the "treatment." Which means it's been over a week now, and I'm starting to get a leeetle frustrated. I think I may have a *slightly* higher sex drive than the average girlie (my mother says we are a family of oversexed women--when my grandmother was 90 years old, in the later stages of Alzheimer's, and living in an assisted care facility, she would still flirt with the male staff --"well, helllllo there!") and anything over a week turns me real, real cranky.

What I don't understand is how the same ingredient that turns bread all fluffy and tasty can wreak such havoc when it moves into one's nether regions. Seems unfair somehow.