Now, I think the fever's coming back. I am counting down the minutes until I take my little one to school and I can take a nap. Sleep has become increasingly important to me in the last 24 hours. I do have some catching up to do over here in blogland, so I think I'll give it a go. Maybe it will make the time go by faster.
Funny story. I'd like to start with this--it kept me up until 3:30 a.m. anyway. Last Friday, I went in to get a physical for an insurance company I am trying not to get denied coverage from. My heart is causing some issues for no good reason (in my opinion). So this is the second insurance company I've had a physical for. I had to go almost downtown to this little office in the middle of not a very pretty part of Portland. I go in and I kid you not, I thought for sure I had walked onto the set of TV's Bloopers & Practical Jokes (Remember that show?). I was just waiting to hear Ed McMahon narrating in the background..."Now Sunshine has no idea that a clown is about to come around the corner and dump a bucket of water on her!"
The office was about as big as my living room. There were three receptionists, all perfectly nice, each about 103 years old, working at three separate desks. They were all on their phones and talking ((loud)). I honestly don't know how any of them could work like that in such close proximity. Their desks were so close to one another, they could reach out and high five each other (if they did such things). I mentioned how loud each of them talked, right? How rude, though they were perfectly nice.
One of the Great Grandma's that showed me to the "sign in" sheet (which was funny in itself, because I was the only "patient" there the entire time I was there) said, "Very good" a lot. A lot. And they all wore eyeglasses that covered their entire face. Huge, round, magnifying glasses. They were perfectly nice though. Great Grandma's usually are.
I had to laugh as I was sitting in the waiting corner, reading an article about Rhianna in People, when one of the perfectly nice Great Grandma's hung up her phone and in her gravely smoker's voice said, "Shit." Professional. When you're 103, I guess it's okay though.
It was very brown in the office too. Old brown, like 1970's brown. If "old" was a color, it would be this color brown. The office could seriously use a window too--one that opened.
Then I was called into the exam room by one of the perfectly nice Great Grandma's--who must have been a nurse too, because she changed into a white coat on her way from her desk to the exam room. She asked me 1003 questions that I had just spent two days answering at home in the application that they had mailed to me. Forever later, she took my blood pressure, weight and blood. She was nice enough to comment, as she was taking my weight, that I "hid it well". Um...Thank you??? And when she took my blood, she didn't wear gloves. I had to admit, that is really when I thought Ed McMahon was going to walk in. I started to get a little freak out going. I wanted to remind her, as the gloves were sitting right on the table next to her, but I struggled with having perfectly nice Great Grandma yell at me in her smoker's, man voice. I glared at the gloves, trying to give her the hint. Even with the gargantuan eyeglasses, she missed my hint and the gloves. Unheard of. Again, I guess when you're 103...
What a relief to see the sun and breathe fresh (let me emphasize--fresh) air again. I think I don't care if I get denied.
Other than that, we've been busy. The other day, a friend of mine commented, "It looks like your life is one long party." Lately it kind of has been. And frankly, I need a nap. Like a good, solid, you're-still-in-college-so-you-can-sleep-all-day-long nap. Unfortunately, I can't do that as motherhood and grown-uphood have gotten in the way.
In the last two weeks, we've flown from Portland to D.C. and back again for a wedding, danced all night with the big girls for an 80's Nite, went to another wedding and danced all night again. It kind of has been a party. But I think we're done now. Back to Ed McMahon narrating your insurance physicals, colds, body aches and feeevah inducing blog entries.
My girl's were the flower girl's at my cousin's wedding on Valentine's Day