Tuesday – The Day It All Gets Decided

Tuesday – The Day It All Gets Decided

Tomorrow, I see the “fancy pants” orthopedic surgeon. If you’d seen his CV, you know why we called him fancy pants. He’s taught, taken seminars, studied, etc., all over the world. Okay, all of the really fabulous places you’d want to see in the world, if you were a doctor studying or teaching: Switzerland; Spain; Montreal; Waikoloa, Hawaii; Boston; Miami, New York; San Francisco; Holland; Santa Fe; Italy; Venezuela; Japan; South Africa, et al. And this CV I ran across is five years old. By now, he’s probably hit every point on the globe. Although, come to think of it, is there any time for surgery? So, tomorrow we hit the waiting room of zero gravity chairs and vending machines. I imagine I’ll get an idea of how quickly this…
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I Hate Alcohol

I Hate Alcohol

No, not on general principle or anything. But last night, I thought I’d have a tasty mint chocolate cookie boozy beverage and all it did was make me feel crappy. Alcohol is almost always a huge disappointment to me. No joyous drunkenness, just a slight feeling of nausea and a headache. I wanna be like the cool kids and have a drink every now and then, but it just makes me feel lousy. But just now, I downed a bottle of Gatorade (original flavor) and I feel great. In fact, I want more. Perhaps someone should study my genetics, because maybe it could be injected into alcoholics to help balance out whatever alcohol-enjoying genetics they have. I’m serious. Even in my younger days, when my parents would go away for…
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