I’m writing this from the holding room in the urgent care. Not the waiting room, mind you. The holding room- where they take your blood pressure and your temperature and promise you that the doctor will be in soon.
And yet you find the time to write a blog post.
(now that I think of it, I want a holding room in my house. And I’ll install a toilet.)
So I’m at the uegent care. Because I’m coughing and coughing and my “it’s just a virus and it has to run it’s course” logic has been trumped by “I was up all night despite illegal and ill advised amounts of NyQuil.”
If nyquil can’t touch it, it has to be bad. That shit is magical.
Ten minutes in… Still holding…
I feel like I have to justify being here. Urgent care is for pussies and people who don’t have to worry about how much this shit is going to cost.
Oh. Done holding.
And it’s a fucking virus.