|The Fright Walk = my life.|
OMGOSH. SO MANY THINGS TO TELL YOU. First off, it’s June. Second off, it feels like February. Like, it’s been freaking snowing. Which is like, cool and everything but it’s not cool … you know?
Like, ok — on my day off from work yesterday I drove back to my house in the hills with my sister to get what was left of my summer clothes. However, what I was unaware of was that on the drive back to Folsom, I would be caught in the hailstorm straight from hell. You think I’m exaggerating but I’m not. I mean, my knuckles were whiter than the hail balls. NOT. EXAGGERATING.
So just to spice things up, everyone decided to come to a screeching halt at the bottom of this massive hill in mid-shit-ton-of-hail storm. Now, in all honesty, my car isn’t necessarily the most … um … “treadworthy” of cars if I may. So needless to say as I began to apply pressure to the break (in a COMPLETELY calm, not-freaking-out, lady-like fashion) my little blue car began to glide gently towards to cars spinning off the road in front of me. Not to be outdone, my car began to spin off the road — also, in a lady-like, elegant fashion. But of course, being the expert driver/human being that I am I handled the situation perfectly. And by that I mean after doing a complete 180 and taking out 953 orange cones, I sat on the side of the freeway silently staring wide-eyed out the window as my sister searched my blood-drained face for signs of life.
After my vital organs began functioning again, I restarted the car and continued on my merry little way — past the rest of the car carnage at the bottom of that demon-seed hill.
A little cherry on top of that sundae was the fact that over the past three weeks I have had a dull-ache on my right side that decided to go ahead and become HUGE-STUPID-APPENDICITIS-LIKE-ACHE 2011 about a day and a half ago. So today I went ahead and ducked out of work early to make a trip to the E.R. Which is always a good time. Also, I’m pretty sure the receptionist has something against 23-year-old-girls with appendicitis because she made me wait like, an hour and a half and let the 20-something guy with appendicitis go right on in like 10 minutes after he got there. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for flirting with cute guys at work but not when you’re also flirting with my life. Ok great.
And when I went up to the counter to ask her just WHY I was the one waiting so long to get my obviously exploding appendix out she responded with something I didn’t expect. She said, with as much attitude as she could muster, “you’re going to have to wait just a minute. We put people into pods.”
I stared back at her with a look that I was hoping expressed, “is that another term for ‘pain-bracket’ or do you literally put people into bean pods?” And she responded with a stare that said, “bitch, you better get up out.” Not wanting to argue/stare further, I sat down.
Eventually they called me in. It’s not appendicitis — it’s a stupid cyst. I go in for further testing tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I’m going to work on a stare that says, “I’m going to sue you if you don’t call my name right this second.” That one will take some time.