Friends. Let's just admit that it's been awhile since my last confession/post. Life, it appears, cycles. And like those bits of laundry that fall between your washer & dryer -- sometimes you miss a cycle or two.  I'm not going to apologize, because I'm a professor now. And being a professor means never having to say your sorry.  You instead say, "I've been working on a bunch of projects."

Ya'll, I've been working on a bunch of projects.

But, one issue above all has brought me back to the electronic typewriter: "Why do products like ass cream require the pharmacy to call your doctor for refills?"

It's fucking insane. I mean let's think of the logic here. First off, said person, let's call him Matt for simplicity's sake, has a burning ass, fiery enough to make a doctor's appointment. Then in said doctor's appointment with Matt's 50-year-old female PA, Matt proclaims his ass to be flammable. I will save you the details, but this fictional Matt character may have complained of blood and hemorrhoids. At least that's the word on the fictional street.  Then Matt, having declared his rectal pain, got to watch said PA search the internet for the best creams for said issue.

*It is here, I must add, that Matt lost a bit of faith in his PA. I mean, he can google his symptoms to find the recommended cures. He can also look at the doctors' reviews of said products and corresponding side effects. Sitting there for 5-10 minutes watching her search on the computer felt a bit bush league to Matt. But I digress.

So, with no inspection of the area of said problem (I can't be sure if that was a good or bad thing -- probably bad in terms of treatment, good in terms of emotional comfort), Matt was sent on his way with a prescription for the most commonly used product for such an ailment that also had the fewest  reported negative side-effects.  In summary, the process of procuring my prescription was awkward and uncomfortable on a variety of levels.  But, this isn't even where my real issue lies.