You really can't take me anywhere.
Yesterday's adventure was completely uneventful from a medical standpoint (at least I hope so and will find out in about a week), but it did confirm the fact that, like Tylenol, I should have come with a warning label:
"Warning! Spinster should be taken in small doses. Overexposure may lead to having to suffer through fits of hysterical blathering meant to deflect awkward situations, but really only add to the circus-like atmosphere of having to examine the pendulous attachments of one very giggly, shy, chatterbox idiot who can't stop muttering about field trips, amusement parks, and Happy Meals."
I was doing just fine..reading my book in the waiting room, then changing into the capelet and promising that I didn't slather on deoderant or powder, and even when I was signing the form that said this was just a routine visit. (Hello? You've met me. Is anything I do ever routine?)
But the minute the technician came at me with the nipple stickers (I'm sure there's a term for them, but all I know is that taking the damn things off is more shades of grey than THIS portly gal ever bargains for)...I immediately burst into a fit of nutso and blurted out "Oh, look girls! Party hats!"
Yeah...that definitely broke the ice.
The poor tech looked like she wanted to call for backup and it was all business after that. They really should award her combat pay for having to deal with the likes of...me.
So today will be a lesson in being q.u.i.e.t. and getting back to some stitching. The sun is shining and Stewey is snoozing happily in his little window bed. At some point I'm going to have to ride the vacuum around this place and hit the market for provisions, but for now methinks a few hours of solitude might be just what I (and the rest of the world) needs.
Have a spectacular weekend! Here's hoping YOUR party hats are the non-adhesive kind!