The TestA Story by MegAn experience that I for some reason felt like documentingI don’t really understand the
health benefits of water. See, as long as I have one, maybe two cups a day, I’m
fine. I feel exactly the same as when I drink three litres in a day, except on
three litres, I pee way more. So to all you hydrophilics I say: have fun
urinating more than twice a day. When I had to take a pregnancy
test that all changed. Well, briefly. I got myself up in the morning, and lo
and behold, no period. So, after walking my sisters to school I stopped in to
my local Woolworths to procure a pee stick that would tell me if I was carrying
a sea monkey in my uterus. There was a box that promised
reliable, fast acting results. That’s what I needed. Yay, perfect. But then
came my dilemma. See, there was a box containing one test for $8.67, and
another containing three tests for $16.40. That’s one entire test free. But, I
didn’t need three. I needed one. Did I know anyone else who might
appreciate a test as a gift? No, Meg. You’re 17, and the only two people you
know having sex are using birth control. Will I need the other two? No,
Meg. Your boyfriend broke up with you last week, and basically you have as high
a chance of having sex as a piece of penne pasta does being eaten after it was
dropped in dog hair. Dark dog hair. Maybe I’ll need them a few years
down the road? No, Meg. Just be f*****g realistic. Buy the single box. Which I did, with a heavy heart
and a mind far more distressed than when I went to buy the test. Don’t they
know that I don’t need more stress? So rude. I just, I love a good bargain, and
that one was nearly too good to pass up. One trip to the self-serve lane
later-thank god for self-serve, right- and I was on my merry way. With a large,
pink, garish box in one pocket, and a roll on deodorant in the other, I started
the walking home. You’d think the test would be the more shameful item, right?
Well, you’d be wrong there. Nothing shameful about as possible teen pregnancy,
not when compared to a teenage girl buying her ex’s deodorant so she can ‘smell
him’. Oh yeah, I knew it. I’d become
someone I never thought I’d be. Someone horrible. I was sweaty on the walk home
too, so I put some on and nearly cried because of the scent. It was kind of
horrible, like most products designed to mask male body odour. But, that was
only fifty percent responsible for the tears. Just the left eye. The right eye,
oh, that one was teary due to other reasons. Sniffling and smelling of a boy
whose mum does all their shopping for them, I walked inside, filled a large cup
with water, and over the next twenty minutes I drank it. And I kid you not, not a moment
after I’d finished, I felt the urge. That pressure where I assume my bladder
is. I was ready. I don’t get it, do bladders
stretch or something? How could one live like this? I remember hearing once
that those Victorian era ladies always had to pee straight away because their
corsets were rather constricting. I was just like one of those women, except
for the part where I was about to take the test to decide if I was “Fertile
Myrtle”. I opened the box, reread the
instructions- I first read them on the walk home- and unwrapped my test, before
shooting off to the loo. I never say loo. I guess this experience has changed
me. In I go, la-la-la, happy happy,
other than possible unwanted pregnancy and abortion scenarios playing in my
head. When down go the pants, the underwear, and dear god, there it is. Betty Blood was in town, as the
girl school attending, fourteen year old version of my mother would say. I bought this stick, opened it,
and I didn’t even need it. I was so annoyed that I peed on it, which I realised
later was a mistake, as I’d just helped it fulfil its destiny, to be urinated
all over. And, yes, what a surprise. One line for not pregnant. Well f**k that, I’m off to watch
another fourteen episodes of Buffy and neglect to wash the dishes. © 2014 MegAuthor's Note
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Added on December 18, 2014Last Updated on December 29, 2014 AuthorMegVictoria, Melbourne, AustraliaAboutHello, I'm Meg and I live in Australia, which for some reason feels important to mention. I've just picked up writing again, and I don't know. Please read my things. I'll read yours. And I'll love you.. more..Writing
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