Today I got the birthday present I bought myself through the mail. I am now feeling supported and separated, lifted and somehow thinner. Is this really where the boobs are supposed to be? I keep hitting my chin on them and I can definitely see the six pack of small rolls where my abs should be but aren't. When not dragging against my knees they look really HUGE. I am so amazed that I keep looking down and then feeling them, cause I can't quite believe they're mine.
I took Haley to Dartmouth yesterday where her doctor (who I LOVE) thought there's a good chance most of her issues are caused by a sleep disorder. So she filled out the paperwork (one piece of paper) for a referral to the sleep clinic to at least rule this out before we go the ADHD route. She said that when she faxes these down to the sleep people they somehow lose them and so she wanted us to walk it down (2 buildings over and 3 floors down) and hand it to them in person. When we found the sleep clinic all the doors were shut and because it's a small city I finally decided to enter the business office.
The three women who were sitting there chatting were AGHAST that I would walk in. They spoke ANGRY INTEROFFICE language at me that sounded something like "You can't hand this to us! You have to send it by interoffice doctor transportalator facsimile machination" and each one looked up at the sky (or ceiling) like whatever it was lived above us. So maybe they meant I had to talk to God first, and when I refused and said "The doctor said to walk it down here and hand it to you" they were even more AGHAST that I would refuse to bow down and worship this thing they so feared and revered. "The doctors keep doing this to us, instead of using the interoffice doctor transportalator facsimile machination," they said to me so that I would be on their side of the interoffice schism. And maybe I was or maybe I wasn't, I didn't really care as long as the paper got to where it was going.Then they just looked at me like I should apologize for bring this nasty piece of paper to them. I turned to the one nearest me and asked politely "I have no idea what you are talking about, but can you please get this to where it's supposed to be."
She took it from me and said that she would fax it upstairs so that it would be faxed back down to her, the way things are supposed to work in the hospital. If this order was not kept apparently the whole system would fall apart. I don't doubt that she made a paper airplane out of it and threw it down the elevator shaft after I left. And I now realize that she may have been merely following the Pathetics on the Way to Gof, in which case I commend her attempt at trying to make me feel like she was doing me a huge favor and as long as the paper made it up to God and back I'm okay with it.
The third thing that happened was what I found when looking back through the history on my laptop to find a walkthrough for LOTR for Emily that she looked at on Thursday. I haven't seen so many bizarre sites since the days of Joe and Jim in my basement. No, no, no! I wish I'd never seen those pictures. When I was a kid you had no access to these things and now all you have to do is find the five minutes when MOM has locked herself into the bathroom and type Animal Porn into google and there it is!
Can you tell that they've been home sick all week and I haven't had a break since a week ago Friday?