Doctor's Visit!

So awhile back I had a rash that resembled the dreaded mark of a deer tick. By the time I had it checked out, it was already gone. The doctor agreed that the picture I had taken didn't look too lovely, and ordered me a Lyme's test. The test came back negative and I didn't think much about it. Pretty soon after, my niece was diagnosed with Lyme's and my mom kept urging to me get retested,especially considering my increase in naps and the fact that Lyme's isn't often detected for weeks.

Fast forward to me finally going back to the doctor's today. You know what the problem with me at the doctor's is? It doesn't matter if I have a serious infection or am going for my physical and am in top notch form; I always just kind of babble in a light-hearted way, and by babble I mean BABBLE. My mom is always saying I need to act more sick when sick or else no one will believe I am sick. Not that I feel too bad today, honestly (though my lunch did go right through me). Anyway, the babbling was in full effect today times infinite. As soon as the doctor apologized for being late, to which I replied, "oh isn't that what you guys do? It'd be weird if you weren't," I told the doctor about the bar I planned to get married in once I find a husband and about how my cat is overweight and how my niece and I had rolled down the same hill together so perhaps it is good I get retested even though it is probably nothing but then again who knows and have you had the breakfast sandwich at Ellie's Bakery? They have the best tomato jam situation.

Oh, and backtrack. When the doctor walked in

As I waited to go in for my blood test, a poor, hot mess of a woman wearing a Kid Rock shirt came and sat next to me in the waiting room. She started chatting. She looked terrible, meant in the nicest way possible. I told her I am sorry she didn't feel well. She replied something along the lines of "it's because of my ex, my stupid ex." And then proceeded to tell me how her ex cheated on her and she bought backstage tickets to Nickleback and they didn't go because of the cheating and yadayadayada. I wished her well and said she still should have gone to the concert (though, I think I'd have to be paid to go see them live).

Really liked the blood test administer lady. I said to her, "It's too bad about that woman and her ex. Exes, I tell ya." She rolled her eyes and said she heard all about that when the woman was in with her a minute before. I then proceeded to apologize to blood test administer lady because I cannot look at her while talking because she is too close to my arm and I may pass out. I then talked about my blue shampoo. So, my hairdresser recommended I use a blue or purple shampoo because I had my hair highlighted and it is supposed to decrease the brassy after-effects. The first time I used the shampoo, I was horrified when I looked down on my chest and saw blue sputtering everywhere; I was convinced I had developed 76 ungodly veins because I had worked out twice that day, and well, you know, that's never a good idea. Then I realized a few moments later it was just my shampoo and I felt better. Then the blood test administer lady told me that I am improving at blood test and I told her I think she is great and then I came home, and that is that.

Funeral Procession/Lunch/The Big Sick

I have to cross two lanes to get to my exit. There was a lot of traffic today so I was quite pleased with myself when I was able to get into the necessary lane. That was, of course, before I realized that I had cut into a funeral procession. I tried to shrink down in my seat but my intrusion was evidently apparent as a black long-sleeved arm appeared out of the window ahead of me, and proceeded to give me the longest middle finger ever.

Last week my friend and I ate lunch en plein air as one should in the summer. It wasn't until we were sitting outside that I realized that the place I worked the previous summer was directly across the street. Background information: I worked teaching English to middle school aged inner-city youth. The program was thrown together last minute. It was relatively chaotic. At one point, I kicked a kid out of the class for being horribly ignorant to which he replied that I was "racist" which made no sense to me because hello, I would have kicked the entire class out of that was the case. It was this experience that I also learned that "anonymous" surveys are not at all anonymous. When asked to fill out the "anonymous" survey at the end of the summer program, I filled out quite honestly. One question was: "Do you think you will work here again" to which I replied "definitely not". Well flash forward to this summer, and shocker, I didn't hear from the coordinator. I did, however, have him recognize my squeaky voice chatting away while I ate my lunch across from my former work site. He asked if I was working this summer; "Nope, well I didn't hear from you." He responded with, "Well did you reach out to us?" Me: "Nope, definitely not. Nice outfit." End scene.

Except the scene kept running just with other characters. For instance, this woman plops down a dvd in the bus stop bench in front of our table. A couple of minutes later, she got on the bus, forgetting her dvd. Enter a man in a hat who takes the dvd. My friend and I were like, what is up with this dvd. Ten minutes pass and the woman is back asking if we saw anyone take the dvd. Next thing you know, she is borrowing my phone. Meanwhile, I'm thinking, figures less than a month ago my phone was swallowed in mud, then I got it replaced, then cracked the screen, then got that replaced, and now it is in her hands. Oh well, I can probably out run her if worse comes to worse. And by probably, I mean definitely, well, except if my Larry Bird knee started acting a-fool.

Saw that movie "The Big Sick" with my friend tonight. We figured it would give us some hope in regards to the love department. Final verdict: not so much. While I am quite glad (read: mildly jealous) that it worked out for the couple in the film (which is based on a real story), the only chunk of wisdom that we parted with is the following: in order for a man to realize he is in love with you/miss you, you need to be in a coma. So, unless somehow I end up in a coma, it it is not looking so good for me (ha?).