I was all prepared to write another installment of my POD reviews, but my Internet is down and I’m blogging from my phone tonight. Which, as much as I love the app, is a royal pain in the butt. Besides, there’s been a ton of shenanigans going on in my life right now, so I’m not feeling terribly analytical. I’m feeling sarcastic and in serious need of a diet coke.
So, I had a baby five months ago. And I had another baby twenty months before that. Anyway, I was pregnant this time last year and for whatever reason, The Lady Doctor doesn’t do an annual exam when you’re knocked up.
So I’m past due.
This was pointed out to me when I called to make my appointment last month. I said, “well yeah, I’ve kind of been pregnant.” She informed me my last exam was in May 2010. I said, “Well, I can believe that, since I was pregnant most of 2011.”
She gave an appointment date, time, and doctor name. The doctor was none other than Hot Doctor, the young, smoking hot, tattooed doctor I saw once during my pregnancy. It was an epic appointment filled with awkward conversation about vaginal discharge (Me: “it’s like the Amazon down there”) and me trying to look like I wasn’t seven months pregnant.
I told the receptionist I was busy that day. She scheduled me with another doctor.
Meanwhile, shenanigans here. All kinds of crap come up and I have to change my appointment.
And apparently, the only doctor in the office any day of the week in May is Hot Doctor.
Seriously? Because this means I’m going to have to make an extra special effort to be cute. I’ll have to shave my legs. Paint my toenails. Make sure my paper gown looks extra awesome.
It’s not even the fact that it’s a dude. I mean, I’ve had two kids. I’ve been the star of the show twice, plus my oldest was delivered by a male doctor. And yes, true, it’s this dude’s job to be a Lady Doctor. Once you’ve seen one crotch, you’ve seen them all.
But he’s Hot Doctor.
And that’s my dance space. Seriously, it’s like “hey nice to meet you. Can you slide your butt to the bottom of the table? Let’s get started.”
Sigh. I can’t win for losing.
In other news, my RWA writing workshop starts on Monday. I’ve got to be honest, because we’re all friends here, I can’t remember what I signed up for. I remember the next workshop I want to take. This one…not so much. These are the pitfalls of getting old and tired. But I’m still excited.
And in an unrelated note, I finally succumbed to peer pressure and bought “50 Shades of Grey” today. I’m prepared to be scandalized. Make me blush, “50 Shades of Grey,” make me blush.