I've had two uncommonly nice days. Really.

Yesterday was my day off- woke up earlyish, went to the gym, came home and got ready for the day. Visited my old high school band director along with a friend (two old farts can go where only one would look strange...) And then later that night me and two of my high school buddies went out for dinner and ended up hanging out until midnight. We all remember the same corny jokes (music with appeal) and shared a bunch of stories (which means: if you're a boy and you are presently or have ever been affiliated with one of us, then you are fair game for conversation fodder.) We're wondering what ever happened to a few of our old group...but...well, the whole night seemed to lack very little.

Then today, work was even kind of nice. I can now scrub used surgucal equipment without wincing, and I even got to watch the Dr. stitch somebody up today. (My Dad bet me $10 I would faint the first time I was in the room...methinks I should be coming face to face with good ol' Alex Hamilton rather soon...) And Mrs. Wilson took my picture wearing all of my stuff (scrubs, apron, glasses, face mask, gloves...) I'll see if I can get a hold of it to post- I look like I'm dressed up for Halloween. And the funniest elderly couple came in today:

Nurse: Right this way, John.
John: What's that?
Marge: Dear, she wants you to follow her that way.
John: Oh, is that it? Well I'm 89 years old...I'll do what I want. Where's she headed now? I think I'll go on over there.
Nurse: Sir, is this your wife?
John: Nope. That there's my girlfriend. Left the wife at home.
(Apparently they just celebrated their 61st wedding anniversary...)

And then, after his surgery:

Nurse: And here's your get-well flower from Dr. Wilson's office! We'll call you tonight to see how you're doing.
John: Margie, dear. Lookit this lovely flower I got fer yeh. Heh, heh.
Marge: Oh, dear. :::blushing:::: You always know how to please...

hehe, people crack me up. The girl who got her wisdom teeth pulled right before these two showed up was so happy with the Valium that they gave her that she told all of us that she loved us. And that she wished she could get Allllllllll of her teeth pulled because it was the best thing EVER.

Sometimes it really is a total riot.

I think I'm finally settling into things at the new job. It's the little things, I guess...my boss actually asked me how my weekend went, and we traded stories, etc. (Incidentally, over the weekend, we went to Disneyland. The Happiest Place on Earth. I totally went on the new Buzz Lightyear space adventure laser tag ride thing and like, totally rocked at defeating intergalactic space enemy things. Be jealous.) But yeah...my new boss is pretty nice, and I'm finally learning how to be a real person there and not just an eager to please phone answering robot.

I'm also learning the true nuances of office jobs. Like how to correctly turn my nose down at habitual appointment reschedulers. (If *you're* not going to show proper respect for *our* schedule then we'll only return the favor...) And how to scoff at people who arrive 10 minutes late for their appointments. (The lowest of the low.) Right now, I'm currently working on the left-handed phone answer technique. Which involves oh-so-much-more than just answering the phone with your left hand. It's...well, it involves capturing a particular essence, so to speak. Your left must not just go to the phone, it must nonchalantly float to the receiver, and rest there for a second. Then the receiver must be delivered to the waiting left shoulder, where it will be creviced while the answering party continues with whatever she was doing (usually typing) before the ringing of the phone encroached on her otherwise peaceful morning. The vocal portion of of the answer must be friendly, but with a hint of condescension. "Good morning, how can I help you?" is really more easily translated as "Hello. I hope you have had the brains and common decency to gather all of those materials necessary to our little verbal transaction *before* you troubled my line with your request for an appointment." All must be done one one fluid movement- one that says, "I have deigned it worth my station to notice you. But will do so only with my left, non-dominant hand, and will have you know that you do not, by any means, have a clearer understanding of your own situation than I do." There's also some jedi-caliber mind tricks involved, but if I told you...well...I'd have to kill you. Or, you know, treat you with all concomittant condescension thereafter.

Aaaargh...but the worst part of all of this is when the table are turned. I myself had to call and schedule an appointment today at Kaiser, that bastion of modern beurocracy. And when I actually went in for my appointmentm, I was sent over to x-ray...and, heaven forbid, I put my packet of papers in the wrong slot and did NOT check in to radiology before I put them there anyway. ::::gasp:::: The radiology attendant came out to me to explain my wrongdoing (with a half smirk) and although he was a really nice guy, I just wanted to level with him. "Look, I'm sorry. But I KNOW what you people back there do now. And I'm really not one of those late people. Or one of those people who doesn't have their papers together. Really. I'm not. It's not what it looks like. I'm practicing the left-handed phone answering technique!!! I'm on your side!!!" But ofcourse I didn't do that, you know, like, out loud.

::::sigh:::: And the whole doctor thing wasn't that bad. But now I just have to go see other doctors...apparently my knees are a funny shape and all of the running has caused them to grind up the cartiledge like mozzarella cheese. (I kid you not. These are the doctor's exact words.) So now I get to haul my cheesy knees to some other appoints and hold on to some faint hope that I may be able to keep jogging in the future and still, like be able to walk in ten years. :::sigh::: Only time will tell...