The third floor pharmacy at the Kaiser Hospital I went to for my annual va-jay-jay inspection this morning is plastered with pictures of a very happy man. This guy looks like he ate a plate of ribs and then farted, he's so happy. He's leaning back in his chair with his arms folded up behind his head, like, aaaah. Aren't these summer mornings just wonderful?
And underneath his photo are bold black, capital letters, that together, spell out the following: YOU MAY BE ASKED FOR A SECOND FORM OF ID.
I just about lost my shit when I saw that. I was cackling -- cackling I tell you -- while standing in line at the pharmacy. Even now, thinking about those signs, I am laughing out loud. LOLing like crazy up in here.
I am wondering if these signs are actually funny or if it's just the astounding sleep deprivation that's making me giddy.
I couldn't sleep last night. Just couldn't. I don't know why. Well. My darling husband is not in town, and I am worried about rapists breaking into my house and cutting off my appendages and stuff.
My dear husband text messaged me at 2 a.m.
Sooo tired, he says.
I did not reply. That was my way of saying: I was KIND OF sleeping before you texted me that you were tired at two in the morning. I guess Vegas is just too much fun.
Today on the second floor at the Kaiser Hospital, a very angry looking woman named Rupinder drew my blood. She looked extremely tired and maybe even hung over and definitely did not look happy. I did not want Rupinder coming near me with needles. But I didn't say anything. And then I started thinking she was an angry phlebotomist, and this made me giggle a little, and I thought The Angry Phlebotomists would be a good name for a band.
It is Friday. Good thing no one reads on Fridays.