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I Was Feeling Pretty Good Until...

I had my annual “physical” yesterday.   I’ve been attending the same clinic for well over 20 years and am overall happy with the service I receive.  The clinic is part of a state-of-the-art teaching hospital, so with that I typically have relatively quick access to a network of specialists should the need arise.  With that being said, I’m usually treated by residents and have rarely had the same resident in all my 20 years. I felt pretty good going into the appointment and then not so much by the time I left.   Why do you ask? Well, first of all I was treated by Miss Doogie Howser.   I swear she wasn’t even legal drinking age.  That in itself made me feel old, because when I first started going to that clinic – I WAS her age. As she was running down the standard list of questions (i.e. do you smoke, how much do you drink, is there any history of heart problems in your family), she ask...
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Snot Bubbles and Wedgies...

Scuba diving can be the most relaxing, peaceful experience of your life – no cell phones, no boss and no noise, except for your own bubbles; however it can be a sport that is not for the faint of heart – rough waters, sharks and crushing depths. If you are self-conscious, shy or weak of stomach, scuba diving may not be for you. Let me explain… Warning: The following may be overly descriptive. Read on at your own risk… The scuba wetsuit. There is nothing glamorous about squeezing a size 8, 10, 12 body into a size 8 neoprene wetsuit, while sweating under the Caribbean sun. It’s sort of like trying to put a sock on while your foot is still wet. Scuba diving professionals may tell you, that neoprene doesn’t shrink, but those people are liars. What they are really trying to do is make you feel good about yourself – selfish bastards. I am living proof that my wetsuit has shrunk on numerous occasions – usually over the winter months. Coincidence? I think not. The wedgie. This un...
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Heard It Through A Cube Wall...Version 3.0

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The saga of my neighbors in the HR Department continues.  As hard as they are to believe, these are true stories – based on true accounts.  I try not to engage these individuals in conversation because, honestly - I just don’t have the energy.  BUT since I happen to sit in close vicinity to them, I can’t hide from their stupid questions or avoid getting sucked into their conversations. HR Assistant:     (yelling over the wall at me) - How do you spell “dub-a-u”? Me:   Huh? HR Assistant:   I said, how do you spell “dub-ah-u”? Me:   Do you have something in your mouth?  What language are you speaking? HR Assistant:   I’m not speaking anything.  I’m trying to type the word “dub-a-hu” and spell check is telling me it is spelled wrong. Me:   Are you trying the type the word “W”, as in the lette...
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