Hello from the Toilet

What do you do when you're in such bad pain that nothing will help, not even ice because ice requires touching something to your cooch and you're pretty sure that's your trigger for becoming a fire-breathing dragon?

I sit on my toilet.

My toilet, the one that makes me not want to be a renter anymore. As I sit here all typey-typey trying not to scream, my porcelain friend is dripping into the apartment below me.

It's not the toilet that makes me not want to be a renter. It's the fact that I don't own this toilet and am not in charge of its maintenance. The last time my toilet decided to be a metaphor and leak, the guys replaced only the bolt that was leaking. Like toilet Pollyannas or something. That other one's the same age but surely it's good as new even though the one that's the SAME AGE THAT WE JUST REPLACED was leaking! Never fear, dear -- air your ass all you desire! Our reliable handiwork can't possibly let you down!

One of those guys is my downstairs neighbor. Can't say I feel bad leaking down on him, though he's a really nice guy. Maintenance has a karma. I think it scared his cigarette-smoking tween, though, who, home alone with his tiny tween buds, banged on my door yesterday evening to tell me about the leak.

If I lean back I hear drip...drip...drip... So I'm all thrust forward in my winter coat in my freezing bathroom telling you about my failing plumbing.

I think this flare is from my period, but it's so bad I'm wondering (note: not worried...I give up) if I have a UTI. How would I know that, in so much pain already and bleeding anyway? That's where this gets tricky. But I'm pretty sure I'm just being tortured by a mystery demon no one has been able to name (like Beetlejuice!) and not by mere bacteria.

If I do have a UTI, it's because of a...guy....

It's my day off, but I woke up at waitress time to pee and set myself on fire. We both sweat under the blankets but use them anyway, and when we turn our backs we hold feet. I wanted to stay until he got dispatched, but I was feeling like an emergency only my toilet could solve. My leaky toilet, leaky life, I don't think he quite knows what to think of it. I'm listening for my neighbor's car to return so I know when I have to get off the pot.