what a long, strange trip it's been
oh dear readers, what a week it's been...
so, like i said, me doctorb (points if you get that reference) told me to get to the surgeon asap. now, as many of you know, imminence isn't my strong point... i'll get to it when i get to it... and it seems that every surgeon seems to take labor day as her/his week- or two- off in the summer. called the first, second, third, and finally fourth surgeon to whom i was referred, but there was no luck. finally, when i told the fourth one's assistant, this crotchity old hag, that me doc told me to see someone asap, she asked me why i didn't call sooner. (grr...) but 'fit me in between the 12 and 1 so be prompt and be prepared to wait' on tuesday. this gent, as luck would have it, is the vice-chief of surgery at one of the tonier hospitals in new york, so i'm kind of ok waiting for one of the best. and as something has to give, i'm sure he'll be a jerk and will yell at me for not lifting weights correctly. she explained that he does this surgery on thursdays and told me what to expect. i almost started touching myself in the vacant cubefarm office when she told me i'd be out of work for 'at least a week.'
i called my doc to see if a full week delay is ok, thinking my gut is going to explode and that i'll have to do something tragic like limit my red wine intake or give up carbs or something equally as awful, but thankfully not. sadly, however, i cannot run. that's going to hurt for a few weeks. but at least i can drink, that's something.
told ladyboss that 'he does surgery on thursdays, so it's possible i may be out of commission labor day week.' (heh heh heh. i'm smooth.) 'but that's the week the new girl starts.' i just looked at her until she caught herself. 'but whatever you need, you need.' right-o, toots. good save.
in the meantime, tod an i are coexisting peacefully. his existence meant that i had to get one of those old-lady shopping carts to do my laundry. i go to 'fix you good!' hardware on sixth and asked if they have 'you know, those carts. for stuff.' 'why you need that chief? a guy like you ees more strong enough for those piece of craps.'
and twenty-five bucks later, i walk out with a day-glo blue cart. to make matters worse, the bastard broke just as i got it into my flophouse. it has the primary back wheels that are installed well(ish), and two secondary wheels in the front that are held with, who knew, a piece of metal not quite the thickness of the flugelbinder on my shoes. one snap as i walk into the flophouse and i'm jimmy-rigging the thing every time i bring it into, and out of, my building. and into, and out of, my laundromat. (and why is that woman insistent upon saying hello to me now? the 180-degree turn in her demeanor needs to stop. how she found out my name just weirds me out. sort of. 'hiyee jon!' 'my name isn't jon.' 'no to forget last wash at [looks at clock from 1970's] well you hurry up!')
grr.
so, like i said, me doctorb (points if you get that reference) told me to get to the surgeon asap. now, as many of you know, imminence isn't my strong point... i'll get to it when i get to it... and it seems that every surgeon seems to take labor day as her/his week- or two- off in the summer. called the first, second, third, and finally fourth surgeon to whom i was referred, but there was no luck. finally, when i told the fourth one's assistant, this crotchity old hag, that me doc told me to see someone asap, she asked me why i didn't call sooner. (grr...) but 'fit me in between the 12 and 1 so be prompt and be prepared to wait' on tuesday. this gent, as luck would have it, is the vice-chief of surgery at one of the tonier hospitals in new york, so i'm kind of ok waiting for one of the best. and as something has to give, i'm sure he'll be a jerk and will yell at me for not lifting weights correctly. she explained that he does this surgery on thursdays and told me what to expect. i almost started touching myself in the vacant cubefarm office when she told me i'd be out of work for 'at least a week.'
i called my doc to see if a full week delay is ok, thinking my gut is going to explode and that i'll have to do something tragic like limit my red wine intake or give up carbs or something equally as awful, but thankfully not. sadly, however, i cannot run. that's going to hurt for a few weeks. but at least i can drink, that's something.
told ladyboss that 'he does surgery on thursdays, so it's possible i may be out of commission labor day week.' (heh heh heh. i'm smooth.) 'but that's the week the new girl starts.' i just looked at her until she caught herself. 'but whatever you need, you need.' right-o, toots. good save.
in the meantime, tod an i are coexisting peacefully. his existence meant that i had to get one of those old-lady shopping carts to do my laundry. i go to 'fix you good!' hardware on sixth and asked if they have 'you know, those carts. for stuff.' 'why you need that chief? a guy like you ees more strong enough for those piece of craps.'
and twenty-five bucks later, i walk out with a day-glo blue cart. to make matters worse, the bastard broke just as i got it into my flophouse. it has the primary back wheels that are installed well(ish), and two secondary wheels in the front that are held with, who knew, a piece of metal not quite the thickness of the flugelbinder on my shoes. one snap as i walk into the flophouse and i'm jimmy-rigging the thing every time i bring it into, and out of, my building. and into, and out of, my laundromat. (and why is that woman insistent upon saying hello to me now? the 180-degree turn in her demeanor needs to stop. how she found out my name just weirds me out. sort of. 'hiyee jon!' 'my name isn't jon.' 'no to forget last wash at [looks at clock from 1970's] well you hurry up!')
grr.
posted by tom at 1:50 AM
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