Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)
Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.
This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
Again with the knives?!
I realize I said I wasn't going to be able to post anything until later, but this one is just too me to let wait.
You see, we were supposed to go in last week on Thursday to get Catherine's ear rechecked to see if it was still clogged up. Got a call Monday or Tuesday that we needed to change it, though, because the doctor and his wife were having their baby, and he was going to take the week off. Not a problem at all--he SHOULD take some time off. So the office manager rescheduled Cat for yesterday.
Now, between the time of the call last week and yesterday, I received a very odd form letter in the mail from the office, saying that they had tried to contact me about my appointment on the 20th. Which was ridiculous--I mean, I had already talked to them to reschedule it, and no one had tried to contact me since then. (Despite the fact that around here our "administrative professionals" are neither, they CAN take pretty good messages, and at home we have an answering machine.)
SO, I just ignored the letter. I had a thought in the back of my mind that maybe I should call anyway, because you never know, but I decided not to. Because, you know, the back of my mind is so smart and all.
Got away yesterday right on time, motored out to the elementary school, got Baby Girl and her backpack, headed back across town to the doctor's office, parked, walked across the crosswalk, took her to the bathroom so she could drain her almond-sized bladder, went back to the door of the office and...locked.
And so I jiggled it, because that's what you're supposed to do. And Catherine jiggled it, because that is what I had done. Knockknockknock. No answer. Hmm. Knockknock. No sound. Grr. KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! Finally, a rustling and the door eased open and I saw the office manager and her assistant standing behind it, looking puzzled. "Um, we had an appointment today at 4:30?"
"Did they not contact you? Because they were supposed to call you or send you a letter that we were going to be closed today. Today's the doctor's son's bris and we're closed!"
So THAT'S what the letter was about. Sure would have been nice if it had been a bit more specific about the circumstances. Both ladies were very apologetic and nice, but I still have to take her back next week to see if she's any better.
I'm beginning to believe the sharp implements of the world have started some sort of conspiracy against me.
Anyway, now on to some paying work for a little while.
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