While it wasn’t wrapped in extravagant paper and lavish ribbons (which is always a plus), I was given a rather great gift yesterday. I got the annual start of school letter in the mail from my principal (this is her final year before she retires—I am so sad). It outlines the calendar for all the bs meeting we have to have before the students arrive (I mean all the meetings that are so vital for a school’s success). Actually, part of the reason I love principal so much (besides her fierce wardrobe and killer shoes) is her no bs approach. The things the district makes her present that are nothing more than PC garbage, she does so without faking the joyous tone she is supposed to have. Low and behold, I don’t have report to school until next Friday, not Thursday!!! At some point, I actually knew this, but somehow convinced myself that Thursday was the day. I have a whole other day of summer!!! Who knows what adventures lie in store for those extra twenty-four hours? Maybe a summer romance. A book publishing deal. Maybe casual (or not so casual) encounter with a merman. Or, maybe, just maybe, time at the coffee shop, working with massage, and cuddling with the puppies on the couch.
I am trying to think of something sweet and happy and cheerful to say, to talk about. I always blabber about my sadness or stress or some other such blech, so today should be different. Hmmmm…..
In-between the last paragraph and this one, I had a couple hour errand to run. I took a friend to and from the hospital to pick up prescriptions. While there, we went through/in the infectious disease section. As in all the sections, there were signs labeling each part of the unit. One of these signs pointed out how to get to the Infection Disease Group Practice. Now, I know it’s not a good thing to laugh in a place where people go to get help with their HIV infection and other such things. I also know it’s not appropriate to make jokes. Still… Infection Disease Group Practice? There are so many places to go with that! Where I come from, we just call that an orgy. You get in a group and ‘practice.’ Do it enough, or maybe just really good the first time, and you might win a lovely infectious disease. Honestly though, I find it sad that people have to practice for that. If it doesn’t come pretty natural, you’re kinda screwed…or not… Although, compared the hours of piano and guitar lessons I had to take (ask me how many songs I can play on either of those), that practice sounds pretty great. All irreverence aside, I have no idea what that means. The practice totally throws me off.
Later, on my way home, I checked my phone. I had a new text. I pulled the car over, put the car in park, and safely checked my texts (………). My heart stopped when I saw a text reading: Infection Disease Group Practice. I wasn’t expecting any test results today. I didn’t even remember having any outstanding test that I was awaiting results on! Then I saw that it was from myself. I’d forgotten I’d sent myself a text of the group name, because I didn’t wanna forget. No chance of that now.
Black Coffee Tables
1 year ago