Thirst For Knowledge? Not Quite ...

I find myself drinking a helluva lot more water ever since I landed on the island - prolly a testament to how much I sweat all the time. It's complete bullshit what the girls say: "pigs sweat, men perspire - women glow".

Honey, you can glow all you fucking want with the best of the fireflies and glow worms, but the last I checked, I'm still biologically and physically a woman, and I'm sweating by the fucking gallon, so kiss my ass, sweetheart.

But that isn't quite my point.

If you sweat, you'll thirst; if you're thirsty, you'll drink. Hence, I guzzle like a camel that's just trekked across the Sahara - twice.

One of the first things I did upon arrival at home was to commandeer one of those empty 1.5 liter bottles lying around in the kitchen and fill it to the brim. But I soon realized there wasn't enough (boiled) drinking water in the house, so I started filling it straight from the tap.

"It's clean, right?" I asked my Dad repeatedly as I filled my bottle in the kitchen sink. He replied in the affirmative but indicated I should drink the boiled water. He didn't say why, however.

For two whole days, I drank directly from the tap. Sure, the water tasted a little different than I remembered, and a little weird, but I put it down as another thing I should be adjusting to.

Then, one day, I mentioned in passing to my Dad how strange the water tasted, and he casually said, "Of course - it's NEWater now ..."

That was too much, too late - but thanks, Dad.

I immediately emptied my half-drunk bottle down the drain.

I know it's supposed to be purified and all that shit (no pun intended), but, fuck, if I gotta drink piss, I'd drink my own any day.



(21:13 SGT)