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If I Didn’t Have Weird Luck, I Wouldn’t Have Any Luck At All
An hour in the life.
Really, it’s all a matter of perspective.
So in the space of one hour today:
I went to the doctor — again — and had my Western Front invaded. My Maginot Line crossed. My Mariana Trench explored.
I love how they ask you, “Do you want me to step from the room while you dress?”
This question makes zero sense to me. You just had your finger up my butt. I think I’m okay if you continue to stand there while I take 0.03 seconds to pull up my pants.
The pharmacy called me as I headed back to the office because, once again, the medication I need isn’t covered by my insurance, and it won’t even be in until Tuesday.
BUT (no pun intended), I only have to pay $46 instead of $127 because the pharmacy is ordering it from GoodRx, which I feel like maybe I’m getting some kind of generic mystery cream made in China?
Whatever. The price is right.
Maybe ten minutes before that, I was pulled over for going 51 in a 35 because I don’t normally drive on that particular road and also because I don’t care.
