iDry: Drink your water, Bitches!

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According to your doctors, your eyes must be bulging right now and your body as dry as Mars if you have not gulped down 3 full liters of liquid before lunch.

They have alarms to remind you to drink.  If my alarm goes off for this purpose, I invariably shut it off.  I stay where I am and pucker.

I have seen water bottles now with measure markings down their clear sides that read, “Time to drink more!” “Come on—you can do it!” “Drink or die, BITCH.”

I do not need that kind of pressure. 

I am especially confused by my body.  If I were supposed to be drinking my weight in water daily, shouldn’t I be thirsty?  Isn’t thirst supposed to work with dehydration like a partnership?  Shouldn’t I get the urge to drink more?  Thirst is the answer to any wetness deficiency, right?

Nay.  Not in my experience.

As a child, I was groomed not to drink very much.  After all, no one ever heard of bringing a drink along with you—there were no such thing as cup holders.  I got a 3-second slurp at the drinking fountain (“Bubbler” if you are from Wisconsin), and a half pint of milk for lunch and that was it.  We even had days in the hot sun and nothing to drink until we got home.  Convenience stores did not sell individual drinks—you could get a Big Gulp at 7-11, but that was way too much liquid!


Two weeks ago, I fainted, and the doctor said it was because I was dehydrated.  Fainting is worse than being bloated and juicy;  ripe as an eat-me-soon-or-I’ll-rot fruit, so I have taken to drinking more water.  Tales that your body will get used to the new floods and you will go to the bathroom less, alas, have not been true in my case.  I live on a toilet seat now.

So, do not go gently into that good night without a bladder full of fluids, sloshing like a raging ocean.  May your urinary sphincter be strong and mighty.

Signed,  I am a human drainpipe. 

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