Christopher Street

But would it make a good TV show?

It's interesting.

Many times, I have nothing to say. Other times, I have plenty to say and no energy to say it. Yet other times, I have plenty to say, but I don't know HOW to say it--but I guess that can be lumped in with the no energy thing, in that I lack the energy to try and say it properly.

And sometimes, I just say stuff about nothing.

Mine is the Seinfeld of journals.

I went to the doctor yesterday. I don't perceive that there is something wrong with me, necessarily (although those who know me know that I never rule out Something Being Wrong With Me); it was rather one of those visits that the doctors insist on if you want to keep getting refills on your medication. They need to see me, I guess, to make sure that I'm not dead and it's someone else taking my Paxil. I find the whole process ludicrous. I mean, yesterday, I sat in the outer office for an hour and a half, then I got weighed, got my blood pressure checked, got a **hug** from my doctor, who asked me how I feel, if I'm comfortable with my meds, if I need to have a mammogram. She listened to my lungs, told me I look great! and then wrote me the scrip.

What an utter waste of time. Next time, can't she delegate the hugging and the "you look great!" to my pharmacist? I promise that I will check my own damn blood pressure while I'm waiting in line at the Target. I would even still send her my co-pay. Hell, I would stop by her house and let her listen to my lungs.

It's the waiting for an hour and a half--listening to the hardest-core twangy country music station that exists in DC--that busts my buzz.

Posted by Lori at August 9, 2003 2:46 PM