Life is a banquet

This was one of those interminably long weeks when time slows to an Election Recount ’00 pace.  What I needed was for it to move as fast as the Illinois Impeachment hearings of ’09.  Work was busy.  Life outside work was just as busy.  And time just c r a w l e d.

I took today off, dipping into the vaction day punchbowl with the basic plan to do nothing at all (or at least eat Mexican food and read Volume 2 of Dark Horse’s Kurt Busiek-penned Conan series). 

Looking at my car after I pulled into my garage last night, I knew that my vacation day plan was going to be strained.  After hitting a textbook-quality City of Chicago pothole, my right passenger tire went flat.  Fixing it became the new priority for my vacation day.

The first thing I had to do this morning was make an already-scheduled quick visit with my doctor.  My left foot’s been killing me for the past few weeks, to the point that I’m walking with a limp (which I try to make non-obvious, though a few friends have busted me on it).  I filled my tire up and went down the street to the doctor’s office.  

The doctor confirmed that there’s an issue–most likely a mass near the nerves by the ball of my foot.  It’s not a “cancer thing,” mind you; just something annoying that needs to go away.  To be sure, he insisted, I have to have an X-ray taken so that a proper evaluation can be made.  “I’ll send you right downstairs to get that done,” he said.  “I wish,” I replied.  Armed with previous knowledge from a similar situation, I said, “my insurance prevents me from getting that done here.  I have to get it done at the hospital.”. 
“Oh yeah, you’re right,” he agreed.

He filled out the radiology paperwork for me and then referred me to a podiatrist “in network.” Next stop:  the hospital.  

Not really.  Not that fast.

I had to stop home first to get some things sorted out online. Problem was, and has been for months, my home internet was jacked and not working at all (more on my experiences with the ghouls at AT&T another time) .

My workaround was to tether my Blackberry to my work laptop, and use it as an ad-hoc modem.  It’s a perfectly viable solution, if not a tedious one.  I took care of my business and left home an hour and a half later.  A normal connection would’ve had me out in 45 minutes.

I then went to my local Firestone to take care of the flat, the waiting room of which I’m sitting in right now.  A normalish businessman is conducting normalish business by phone and a family of seven–seven–is sitting across from me. Did I mention that the mother is breastfeeding as I’m typing this?  Why is it politically incorrect to say that public breastfeeding is gross?  It’s a beautiful function of the human body, sure, but it’s not a beautiful thing to see as I’m quietly blogging and listening to Husker Du on my iPod.  Hey, sister…put those things away before I gouge my eyes out, Greek Mythology-style.

I was given a wait time of 75-90 minutes.  Once I get the car back, it’s off to the hospital to learn what the mass is lurking in my foot.  

I want my vacation day to be a do-over.

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