The Hunchback Sings

What a weekend.  Phew.

Last night Dutchess and I went for a drive made each other laugh like the dickens.  We were having a tender moment, saying how we were like sisters to each other and that we’d do pretty much anything for the other.

Me:  Oh!  The Hunchback is singing!  <Turns up the Stereo>

D:  Shut up, the Hunchback is singing.  We’ll save this tender moment for later!

I actually laughed so hard I threw  up my Froster.  Not fun but funny as hell.

 

Then…we’re singing along to the stereo…

Song:  I ask for wealth…

Me:  <over the music>DENIED!

Dutchess almost drove the car off the road she laughed so hard.  I really have to learn to be funny but not life threateningly so.

 

Doctor’s appointment today.  Dreading that.  It’s at 4:30.  I’m guessing I’ll be home around 9pm.  I hate that guy.  Over books himself and shows up late.  I’d just cancel it but I’ve got this itchy spot on my back.  At first I thought it might be some kind of reaction to detergent or my hair dye.  But it’s been there for a while and it’s driving me nuts.  I’m wondering if I’ve got eczema in some mild form.  That would suck because it isn’t exactly sexy.  I already get it on my eyelid in the summertime from allergies and Dad gets it on his hands so bad.  I’m hoping it’s something stupid and nothing that requires me to forever have an itchy patch.

The other reason I hate my doctor is he told me one day I was fat.  <Gasp>  Okay, not a shocker.  Not why I hate him.  He says he’ll recommend me for a weight loss clinic in the city, that’s by referral only.  So I call them up, thinking it’s going to be some kind of Weight Watchers or something.  Whatever.  The lady on the other end asks me if I want to have a consultation first or if I’d like to book an appointment so we can get underway with gastric bypass surgery.  Excuse me?  Okay, fat yes, morbidly obese?  No.  I wonder where this quack got his medical license.  Probably “Upstairs Medical College.”  I was so upset I cried.  I never cry.  Damn doctor.

 

 

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