Old hospital. I would drop off the car with the valet, go directly to the lab, tell them nothing had changed with my information, and if for some reason the orders were not in the computer they would take the sample anyway and call my doctor after I left. I'd be back in my car 10 minutes later.
New hospital I drop off my car, give my name at the front desk, wait 15 minutes for the registration person to tell them nothing changed, go back to the waiting room and wait another 15 minutes to be called into the lab, find out the orders are not in the computer and wait around for a half hour while they try to contact my doctor. So frustrating and I have no cell reception there and hadn't eaten enough. So, I was a raging hormonal bitch monster by the time I left.
Connie, in sorry. That's difficult.
sj, that's ridic. Inefficiency makes me nuts, I'd be a frothing rage monster pretty quick too and I'm not even pregnant.
Connie, I'm sorry.
I went for a long drive after I had lunch because I was still cranky and happened upon a Ben & Jerry's. So I'm now consoling my rage with ice cream.
Hm, rage ice cream . . . that's a thought.
fyi ... Ben & Jerry now make Spekooloos (spelling?) ice cream. According to the container, bits of cookie with a cookie butter core.
just sayin' ....
Haagen Daaz coffee ice cream. Or Ben & Jerry's chocolate chip cookie dough.
I have an actual freezer, I can buy bigger containers of ice cream. The universe trembles.
edit: Or, dare I say it . . . both?
I've been doing some house painting for a friend of a friend lately, and I drive right by a place that sells some of the best ice cream in the state to get to the house. (For those in the area, Maple View Farms ice cream.) I've been helping for over a month now, and I've only stopped for ice cream once. I'm thinking that that's going to change in the next day or two.
I got a rejection for one of my stories, and then was stupid and read the comments on a Facebook story(So awful, like poking a boo-boo under a bandaid.Why must some people continue to believe that the answer to every black single woman's problem is to wear a paper hat at McDonald's? Why? Have I mentioned lately that I hate it here? Because it's still true, even though I thought repeating it was like "Francisco Franco's still dead."
I am in a Mood now.
(I know this is probably the wrong attitude, and writing was my "dream!1", but how many rejections count as giving it my best shot, do you think? 50? 100? Because rather than hurting less, like I expected, every time I get rejected a voice in my head says "Plenty of people live decent lives without ever dealing with a submission generator, you know?" How do I know if it's my conscience or KFKD?
