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…