A poetic interpretation of my trip to the doctor’s office yesterday:

Doc: Come in, have a seat.

Me: I feel like crap. I think I have a cold.

Doc: I know. I already decided what you have before you sat down.

Me: I figured as much.

Doc: Common cold work for you?

Me: Doesn’t matter. I only came here because my supervisor won’t let me go home until you’ve told me what a ten-year old could have figured out by listening to me cough my lungs out for 3 minutes.

Doc: I figured as much.

Me: We done here?

Doc: Yep. Here, don’t forget your placebos.

Me: What are these?

Doc: Pink pills & white powder.

Me: What do they do?

Doc: You seem creative, I’m sure you can imagine something that they do.

Me: Right, see you next time.

Doc: Pay me.

Since I’m feeling better I have a feeling I’ll be back tomorrow with a more substantial post. Until then…

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