I did something so idiotic today that I’m legitimately embarrassed to be writing about this on here. Like I pride myself on not doing stupid shit with my body, but lo and behold, today I unlocked stupidity level: epic.
My period didn’t quite finish up yesterday like I had expected and there was still a teensy bit of bleeding today too. But I had plans set in stone to meet up with the Lawyer tonight, and no way in hell was I missing out on that after weeks of waiting. It was imperative that I think of a way to stop the flow, however minimal, for a couple hours. I’ve tried using those SoftCup things during sex – they’re bullshit. You can definitely feel they’re there.
So in my infinite fucking wisdom I decided to cut up one of those bath sponges and stick a bit up my cooch. I know what you’re thinking. “Narc, you’re a fucking moron.” Oh just you wait, it gets better. So I did a practice run with a bit of sponge. Stuck it up in there, waited a couple hours, pulled it back out. It was fine.
Stuck another piece in there for the evening. Went and had amazing sexy time. There was no trace of blood anywhere so I was congratulating myself on the drive home about how clever I was. Hurr hurr. (Kids, I’m telling you right now, don’t try this at home. It’s fucking DUMB.)
Got home, went to the bathroom, starting digging around for the sponge…
Uh, shit, where’s the fucking sponge??
Pushed out my insides a bit, dug a bit further, and finally I felt the tip of it ALL THE FUCKING WAY IN THE BACK. Like if it were any further up in there it would’ve been in my ovaries, I’m pretty sure. I could not get a hold on it with my fingers for the life of me, and I was reaching in there as far as I could. For a good 15 minutes I was twisting and turning and putting my leg up in weird places and lying down on the bathroom floor, just trying to find a good position to get the damn thing out. Nope. No cigar, no sir.
What to do, what to do?
The logical thing would’ve been to go to the hospital and have them fish it out for me. But it was already almost midnight by this point, I was a little tipsy, obviously had just had a bunch of sex, and for fuck’s sake I did NOT want to explain to some random person that I’d stuck a chunk of sponge up my twat, much less why.
So I started thinking – who can I call that won’t judge (or that I won’t care if judges), that has seen me naked, and that will probably come help me in the middle of the night with my issue? The obvious answer would’ve been my husband, except he’s out of town right now. Awesome for me, not so awesome for my snatch. And then the inevitable realization came to me - I could proooooobably call Mr. Simple and he’d come help me out.
And thusly was Mr. Simple over at my house at 1 am, playing gynecologist with me on the bathroom floor. Honestly I don’t know what I would’ve done without him – he actually managed to get a hold of the thing and pulled it out. I mean it took a good five minutes, but he pulled it right the fuck out. Oh man though, you’d better believe me when I say that part FUCKING HURT. There may have been tears. My poor, wounded love taco…
On the bright side, it was super bloody and gross and Mr. Simple was totally icked out by it, so he hightailed it out of there pretty quickly. Phew. No thank you blowjobs required or whatever shit. On the less bright side, now I kinda owe him one. I might just bake him some brownies or something and be like, “Here you go, thank you so much!” Code for “don’t you fucking ask me for sex, I know you helped me but I don’t want to have sex with you.”
And that was my idiotic adventure of the night. I mean if it hadn’t been for all this, I would’ve written a post on how awesome the Lawyer is, but honestly even my enormous crush on him does not trump how mortified and stupid I felt. Good game, body, good game.