The red arm warmer saga continues. I'm probably a quarter done the second warmer now. At this rate I may actually finish them in time to send them by the New Year... Which would give the recipient a whole month to wear them before she heads off to Africa.
I don't think there's much call for wool arm warmers in Africa.
It's a full moon, which means that everyone at the clinic today was bat shit crazy. Or at least that's what it should have meant. I had a reasonably nice day, with very few nutjobs and a few clients that I really enjoyed.
There was one rough phone conversation (I need to learn that nothing beginning with the phrase "Where's my favourite nose-ringed nurse?" can possibly lead to good), but by and large, no crazies for me. Just the standard array of people in crisis. Fibroid so big we can't see your cervix? That'll be 80 minutes on the phone trying to find a gyne, any gyne, who has OR time this close to the holidays. By the time I actually found some sort of solution to that particular problem, I felt like a character in a rejection themed movie montage. Some Coldplay song is humming along quietly in the background as we see the girl pick up the phone, start into her shpeel... and watch her face fall as she slowly puts the received down and begins flipping through the pages of the phone book once again...
And then here I am... Another long, boring Friday night sort of hoping that the fella gets off early enough for us to spend some time together. This one is made slightly worse by the fact that a month ago I agreed (like a moron) to work Saturday at the clinic, so this isn't even a Free Night when I can stay up too late playing internet games. It's a school night.
On the up side, I finally gave in and cooked shortbread and have been shovelling them in my mouth just about as fast as I can chew. Mmm. I don't know why calories taste better during the holiday season, but I know that they do.
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