As busy mom and business owner, I often need a pick me up throughout the day. Most of the time, this comes in the form of the pearl-infused matcha latte at the corner shop, but some days, the creamy green goodness just isn’t working. Thankfully, around three months ago, I found a vice that really changed my life. It has made me a better wife, mother, and human. That thing was OxyContin.
Around this time, my husband and I started seeing a sex therapist. We had perfectly regular sex life, but I found myself yearning for the excitement of new love. I had even begun contemplating having an affair. She coached us though a series of new and exciting positions, but after six months of extensive, conscious discussion, it became clear that this wasn’t working. Desperate to keep my marriage intact, I decided that in lieu of hot sex, I could try hot drugs. Some persistent complaining about imaginary pelvic pain was all it took to trick our therapist into writing me a prescription.
Imagine my delight when I found out that my prescription was for a new and more sensual version of the already magical pill. Unlike traditional OxyContin, this new formula isn’t meant to be ingested as a pill but rather a delightful snow-like powder. When mixed into liquid, it turns a caramel-y color that can easily pass for iced tea at a PTA meeting or a tumbler of single malt at home.
With the first dose, I was overcome. I don’t even need sex anymore—this new form of OxyContin is truly better than sex. Whenever I even look at it sitting on my shelf, I think “Oooh, daddy” and my butthole puckers. Sure, my husband is feeling a bit neglected, but we’re actually happier now that I don’t hate him anymore. It’s even been wonderful for my relationship with my daughter, who always says I’m not listening to her. Now she knows I am just high.
Despite being private about my medical file, I couldn’t help but casually mention T.O.D.D. (as I call it, for Terrific OxyContin Day Drink) in conversation with the other women in my life. After all, it is life-changing. The other wives at my child’s playgroup are always asking me about T.O.D.D. Where did I meet him? How long has this been going on? Aren’t I ashamed? Then they ask me if Bill knows. I keep telling them “Of course, Bill knows. He watches me suck on T.O.D.D. every night.”
I can’t thank our therapist enough, and I would encourage all couples to try sex therapy. Not because it works, mind you. But when it inevitably fails, they can write you a prescription for something better.