The Doctor Visit

Every now and then I have a good story to tell. There was the one about the bird, the one where I felt like an idiot, and the one about the guy that asked a lot of questions. Now, I’m not saying this is one of those times. I mean, I have a story but I’m not going to make any promises of how good it is, but I’m going to tell it none the less. This happened back in February and I forgot about it until the other day, so now you’re not only getting a story with questionable entertainment value, but it’s also old.

Ok. Now that I have your expectations lowered…

At the end beginning of the year, I was sick a lot. I had a pretty bad cold, then got the flu, and then an upper respiratory infection. It was a seemingly unending string of sickness. I happen to be one of those people that never go to the doctor. My mom was an RN, so she is my doctor. If she tells me I’m not dying, I’m pretty good with that. That means, I don’t have a primary doctor so I have nowhere to go when I’m actually dying. Because I have no doctor, I wait until I can’t take the misery of sickness any longer and I’m positive I won’t get better from sleep and drugs, and then I go to the closest walk-in clinic.

Well, I was close to what I felt was dying and decided it was time to go. Turns out there’s a walk-in clinic about two minutes from my house in a slightly run down and questionable strip mall. I mean, there were four dudes hanging out and eating a pizza on the trunk of their car in the parking lot. Not really an up scale type of place. I’m pretty sure telling you this has nothing to do with the story. Or maybe it does. Either way, mentioning pizza let’s me segue into showing this.

That’s a beautiful gif.

When I arrived, I was the only one there so I was relieved I wouldn’t be waiting forever. The girl behind the desk gave me a bunch of paperwork to fill out since I had never been there before. When I was done, I handed it back and she started putting my information into the computer.

She asked me several questions after I gave her the papers, so I thought I had missed some questions on the forms. Specifically, she asked me where I worked, and I told her. Then she asked me what type of company it was, and I told her. Then she asked what I did, and I told her that too. I thought those were pretty specific questions, but then again, maybe she needed to know that I could pay for treatment? I had no idea. I did notice she stopped typing in my information.

There was a slight pause in conversation.

Then she said, “Oh, Ok.  I was just wondering because I’m looking for a new job.” Then she said:

That was awkward.

I didn’t know what to say and I didn’t ask her why she hated her job for fear the answer would be, “that guy’s not really a doctor.” So, I just took a seat.

The One About the Guy Who Asked a lot of Questions

So a funny thing happened after the LMFAO concert.

I mentioned how hubs, Lisa, Sheila, and I went to a bar afterwards to wait for the crowd to thin and traffic to die down. Well, all of us were sitting at the bar chatting for awhile and eventually a random guy walked up to me and started asking a bunch of questions. He didn’t even introduce himself. The first thing out of his mouth was, “how long have you guys known each other?”

I was a little confused at first, but I was polite and answered his questions even though I didn’t show much interest in talking to him since I was mainly in conversation with my friends. But even so, he just kept asking all these random questions out of nowhere.

It was then that I realized he was trying to pick me up. (I know. I’m real observant.) And I gotta hand it to this guy for trying, especially since I was in a group of people. That takes some courage.

Now, I’m not bragging in the least when I say this, but I was not in this guy’s league. If we can talk in celebrity terms here, I know there’s no way a Bradley Cooper or Zac Efron is going to hit on me. But I’m pretty sure if a non-famous, dirt poor, slightly unshowered, yet still adorable John Krasinski was my next door neighbor, I could probably hit that. You know, if I begged.

Anyway, this guy was more like an awkward Jason Segel type without the charm, wit, or cool Dracula song.

So, he was still standing next to me when a song came on that hubs particularly liked. So hubs starts dancing to it about two feet away from us not really paying attention to our group. Then the conversation went a little like this:

Random Guy:  I wanna dance like that someday (referring to hubs).

Me: You can do it right now. Go ahead!

Random Guy: I would, but I’m heterosexual.

Me: So is he. Wanna know how I know?

Random Guy: How?

Me: Because I sleep with him!

*Uncomfortable pause*

Random Guy: He’s your boyfriend?

Me: No. He’s my husband.

Random Guy: It was nice meeting you.

And that is the story about the guy who asked a lot of questions. :-) The end.

That Time When I Felt Like an Idiot

Ok, so funny story.

On my lunch break today, hubs and I went to Smoothie King to get a smoothie. I ordered, paid, and was about to leave when I noticed this woman sitting at a table staring at me wide-eyed.

I didn’t really think much of it because, really, what else is there to look at in Smoothie King but a rack full of protein bars and  beef jerky?

Anyway, as I walked past this lady, she got out of her chair and said, “excuse me” while walking behind me and trying to get my attention. But she was being so quiet about it. So, since she looked all wide-eyed and curious, I got this weird feeling that made me all sorts of nervous. For no reason whatsoever, I started thinking…

THIS is it! She reads my blog and I’M BEING RECOGNIZED!!!!

And then she whispered, “you have a band-aid sticking to your butt.”

True story.

 

Like a Hitchcock Movie but with Less Birds

Sunday morning, I mowed the lawn and did a lot of hedging around the house. I took a short break inside to get some cool air and water and when I walked back out of the house (through the garage),  I saw a bird chirping on top of my car.

Alright, that’s interesting. I called to the hubs to check it out and that’s when I noticed this.

The one on the car kept chirping and flipping out. The one on the step was silent and would not move. We walked right up to him and he didn’t budge. He just kept staring at us.

And staring.

We briefly wondered if he was dead, but we could see his chest moving. Then we got worried because…well, isn’t this how it starts? You know, the end of the world. Don’t the birds attack first?

The only way to a killer bird’s heart is through his stomach. So, I threw bread at him.

He still didn’t move. It was creepy. I just wanted to avoid this.

After throwing all the bread at him, we did the sneak attack. And by sneak attack, I mean we went out the front door and walked around the house to the garage instead of stepping over him because we’re total wimps.

It’s like he’s waiting for the kill signal that only birds can hear.

Eventually we realized it was a scared baby bird who fell out of the nest and couldn’t fly yet. We guided him out of the garage to the mama bird that was waiting outside and making all kinds of commotion. It took about 30 seconds for the mama bird to give the baby some food and lead him across the street to the nest. It was really cute. But first it was totally creepy. But then definitely cute.

Updated: Go check out the fun little interview I did over at Stefanie’s blog Run On, which just happens to be one of the blogs I stalk. Now you can stalk her too!