Okay, so today's patient of interest is a 6some year-old clergyman with a wife 7 years older than him, an extensive knowledge of music (he majored in it), and a tryout for the New York Metropolitan Opera in 1969.
SO COOL. I meet the neatest people in this office.
Monday, June 09, 2008
Monday, June 02, 2008
Evil Genius Secretaries and Octagenarian Race Cars
If I ever get old (heaven forbid) and can only get around using one of those "Jazz Chair 2000!"s, I'd race small children down the massive aisles of CostCo, from the massive 52" Panasonics all the way to the cream-cheese frosting cakes. Their parents would be so pleased to find exhausted, nap-ready toddlers, that they'd buy me a big batch of CostCo muffins right then and there. Then I'd take my warm chocolate chip muffin (which I'd heated in the sampler's microwave), buzz on down to the nearest college dorm - mad-dogging drivers the whole way - and promptly race college freshman down their vomit-stained halls to burn off my high blood-sugar (cause, you know, I'm diabetic - I just don't care), until I finally run into a wall and have to flee the crime scene.
Now, I didn't necessarily see a wrinkled octagenarian zooming past my door with a panting 6-year-old in tow, but I do see a fairly large number of "Jazz Chair 2000"s and what-not. And looking at their slightly deadened faces as they peter along, I can't help but think of all the madness you could do with those things! I mean, they're named things like "Quickie S-525" and "Pride Quantum Blast HD" and what not. And when they're not mimicking sexual innuendos ("Quickie S-525"? Come on.), they're trying to sound like Quiditch broomsticks. So if you ask me, they're just begging to be taken out for a good time, not to mention once you reach that age and level of morbidity, you can pretty much do anything you want.
I love my job.
I am, if you haven't deduced, currently at my site of employment, wiling away the hours before I rush home into the arms of my beloved sis. Yep. Shae's coming, for all that don't know, and she will be staying for a month! Yay! Happyhappyjoyjoy. This is indeed and eventful time, what with Willy's wedding, my birthday, and Shae/Tori's visit (don't know when Tori's planning on coming up, but now certain it should be when Shae's here).
WARNING: These next two paragraphs are meant for Kym, and therefore hold little merit for anyone else. But if you want to waste your time, why not?
So. KYM!!!! HOW ARE YOU!?!?!?!?!?!?!? There's my little shout out to you, Kimberly Dear. I keep having dreams now where we're living in the dorms again (which have magically transformed into my room and Hilde's dorm combined) and you're introducing me to your FABulous new friends, which are just FABulous and think I'm just FABulous as well. I hope your spring/summer is doing freaking awesome and I'm glad I can at least keep up with the basics through blogs (I miss you, Kym, I really do). Running into your mom is quite funny, actually, because every time I do I remind her that you're not there (or so she says). I think I may have to turn mission impossible every time I see her and duck and roll behind tables and what-not so as not to cause undue grief. Should be interesting.
U nysekf (Haha, I just typed that without looking at the screen OR the keyboard. Mad skills.) Ahem, I myself am doing quite dandy. I'm storing up on motivation and home-goodness so hopefully I won't be quite as much of a witch in the fall. But I give you full permission to burn me (you don't even have to check and see if I float first) if I am. I'm quite interested in meeting our new roomies, and I think I'll just scare the crap out of them at first so it just gets better as we go. If they know how freaky I am than at least they won't be surprised when they see it.
Anyways! I might start an emailing campaign to keep in touch witchu, Kimbo, because blogs are so impersonal and you know how much I hate cell phones. Feel free to email back or simply bask in the erratic goodness that is my writing. All ist gut.
My lunch hour (which should technically be a half-hour, but I'm answering the phones as I type, so I'm letting that extra half-hour slide) is almost up and I have to turn back into professional, loveable Tia, then I get to rush home to my crippled mom, preggo bird sister, and crazed beast-for-a-pet. Oh, what fun will then ensue. Cheerio, beautifuls!
Now, I didn't necessarily see a wrinkled octagenarian zooming past my door with a panting 6-year-old in tow, but I do see a fairly large number of "Jazz Chair 2000"s and what-not. And looking at their slightly deadened faces as they peter along, I can't help but think of all the madness you could do with those things! I mean, they're named things like "Quickie S-525" and "Pride Quantum Blast HD" and what not. And when they're not mimicking sexual innuendos ("Quickie S-525"? Come on.), they're trying to sound like Quiditch broomsticks. So if you ask me, they're just begging to be taken out for a good time, not to mention once you reach that age and level of morbidity, you can pretty much do anything you want.
I love my job.
I am, if you haven't deduced, currently at my site of employment, wiling away the hours before I rush home into the arms of my beloved sis. Yep. Shae's coming, for all that don't know, and she will be staying for a month! Yay! Happyhappyjoyjoy. This is indeed and eventful time, what with Willy's wedding, my birthday, and Shae/Tori's visit (don't know when Tori's planning on coming up, but now certain it should be when Shae's here).
WARNING: These next two paragraphs are meant for Kym, and therefore hold little merit for anyone else. But if you want to waste your time, why not?
So. KYM!!!! HOW ARE YOU!?!?!?!?!?!?!? There's my little shout out to you, Kimberly Dear. I keep having dreams now where we're living in the dorms again (which have magically transformed into my room and Hilde's dorm combined) and you're introducing me to your FABulous new friends, which are just FABulous and think I'm just FABulous as well. I hope your spring/summer is doing freaking awesome and I'm glad I can at least keep up with the basics through blogs (I miss you, Kym, I really do). Running into your mom is quite funny, actually, because every time I do I remind her that you're not there (or so she says). I think I may have to turn mission impossible every time I see her and duck and roll behind tables and what-not so as not to cause undue grief. Should be interesting.
U nysekf (Haha, I just typed that without looking at the screen OR the keyboard. Mad skills.) Ahem, I myself am doing quite dandy. I'm storing up on motivation and home-goodness so hopefully I won't be quite as much of a witch in the fall. But I give you full permission to burn me (you don't even have to check and see if I float first) if I am. I'm quite interested in meeting our new roomies, and I think I'll just scare the crap out of them at first so it just gets better as we go. If they know how freaky I am than at least they won't be surprised when they see it.
Anyways! I might start an emailing campaign to keep in touch witchu, Kimbo, because blogs are so impersonal and you know how much I hate cell phones. Feel free to email back or simply bask in the erratic goodness that is my writing. All ist gut.
My lunch hour (which should technically be a half-hour, but I'm answering the phones as I type, so I'm letting that extra half-hour slide) is almost up and I have to turn back into professional, loveable Tia, then I get to rush home to my crippled mom, preggo bird sister, and crazed beast-for-a-pet. Oh, what fun will then ensue. Cheerio, beautifuls!
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