I am not a man like other men. I am infertile. All I can think about is my semen lost at sea.
I don’t want to go to work. I don’t know if I have the strength to battle the commute. I don’t have a cold but I feel worse than if I had the worst possible man flu. I have “not-fertile enough-to-be-a-man” flu. I wish I could phone work and announce that I had picked up a bad dose of infertility and that there was no way I would be able to do my job today. But I look fine. There are no immediate clues to infertility. From the outside, you can’t see the damage within. Like the banks in the financial meltdown, you have no idea how badly things aren’t working the way they are meant to.