This week has been made up of a bunch of crappy jobs.
The accountant with my tax info.When I got there my CPA , who I believe has been married 30 or so times, put his arms around me and said “Men can be such bastards”
Getting my name on our lease from my landlord who is dying to get me out of my rent stabilized apartment. He is demanding an original copy of my marriage certificate and questioning why I want my name on it at all. Don’t get me started on this. These guys have done everything but hire a hit man.
Going to the County Clerk’s office to get said copy.
Going to the doctor. You gotta give this guy credit. He knows that after these visits it’ll be another million years before I see him again so he’s throwing a load of tests at me.
Since I refused to give him any clues as to what might be bothering me and I lied about everything from my daily 2 mile run to my 3 times a week salmon intake, he’s testing me for everything from bubonic plague to hammer toes.
I gave him a few blood tests but if he thinks I’m going to let anyone who doesn’t look like Tom Selleck invade my private flower he’s sadly mistaken.
David tried to give me comfort this morning before I left by telling me that the doctor asking if my affairs are in order is a routine question and I shouldn’t let it alarm me. I had to tell Liz on him.
Not everything was bad. I got a voice message from my little nephew Jacob asking me to donate to kids with cancer and telling me that he’s going to shave his head for the charity.
You really speak for so many people – that fret about the doctor – and so very funny you are!