Read previous chapters of The Cubicle Chronicles here, here, here, here, here, and here. It's been a long time since I last posted one of these and I thought the last one might be the final chapter. Alas, for better or worse, I was wrong. So, once again, I give you The Cubicle Chronicles, this time "The Infertile's Head About Explodes" Edition...
Lady 1: I mean, I think I want to be a mom, but, like wait a while. I mean I don't like want to be the old mom. So, I can't have them any later than like 32. But then, you know, you're like high risk and stuff. And who wants to be on bedrest for like 9 months. And you're too old to chase after the kids and everything. Who wants to be the gray haired mom? Lady 2: Yeah, or the one with wrinkles? Lady 1: I know! And I don't want my kids to be in daycare. Because I don't want them to get sick or anything. Like, if you're working and they get sick, you have to take off. And that's just really inconvenient. Also I think if you're like a housewife, like your house has to be spotlessly clean all the time. Because, like, what else do you have to do all day?! I mean, keeping the house clean and your husband and kids happy is your job. It's not like it's hard when you've got all that time. You know, because you're not like actually working or anything. (So, let me give you a little background on these "ladies". They're both pharmacy students/residents. These are educated, young women. And this crap is what they're spouting. I mean I get that they're young and clueless. But damn. They do not make me feel good about our (collective) future. Also, I'm pretty sure I wasn't able to accurately capture all the times the word "like" was used. Probably because I was constantly telling myself to keep my freaking mouth shut.)
Nurse: I need you to come talk to this patient. Me: What's going on? Nurse: Well, he needs help getting home. Me: Okay, do you know where he lives. Nurse: He lives in [names a state that is 1200+ miles from here]. Probably he needs a plane ticket. Me: Hahahahahaha. Nurse: [silence] Me: Oh, you're serious? Nurse: Yes. He needs to get home. He has a half million dollar house there. Me: Yeah. No. Nurse: Can't you just voucher him a plane ticket? Me: Uh, no. But I can get him a bus pass to the homeless shelter. Or, if he has a half million dollar house, I bet he can afford his own bus pass. Nurse: [silence] Me: Why did he come in today? Nurse: Psych - He thinks he's LL Cool J. Me: [silence] Nurse: He probably doesn't have a half million dollar house, does he? Me: Uh, not so much. Nurse: A bus pass should work. Me: Great. (As a public service announcement, the ER will not be handing out plane tickets from this day forward. Also, the man who tells you he's LL Cool J and came in drunk and without pants, well, lets just go ahead and assume he doesn't have a half million dollar house. I've been know to be wrong on occasion. But I'm feeling like this one is a pretty strong bet.)
Lady 1: So, did you hear my news? Lady 2: No, I've been off because I've been sick, and my grandpa died, and then my sister-in-law was in this awful car accident, and-- L1: Yeah, yeah, we're talking about me. L2: Oh. L1: So, I'm pregnant! L2: (somehow manages to do appropriate amount of happy squealing noises) So, when are you due? L1: Yeah, I waited forever to tell anyone because, you know, this is my first pregnancy and I wanted to make sure it was actually there and going to stick around and stuff before I told everyone. Because, you know, it's my first baby and we tried, like, forever. I mean, seriously, forever, like 4 months. I'm due (gives a date). L2: So you're how many weeks? L1: 6 and a half weeks. And I'm at that point where my regular clothes don't fit anymore so I had to buy maternity clothes. Ugh, this thing is going to make me so fat and ugly. (So, so many things to say here. First, 6.5mon would probably be a long time to wait. 6.5wks, well, not so much. Actually, seems like it often takes her longer than that to realize there's work to be done, so I gotta say I'm surprised she noticed she's pregnant this early. Second, 4 months is "forever"- really? She seems to have a different sense of time than I do. Or anyone else I know, for that matter. Third, having never been pregnant myself - and yes, thank you so much for unknowingly throwing that back up in my face - I don't know for sure. BUT, I'm willing to guess that if you're getting "fat" at this point, it's not the baby's fault. Pretty sure it's the 3 doughnuts I saw you eating for breakfast, followed by the 4 cupcakes for "snack" - which was about 17min after "breakfast". Lastly, poor, poor doughnut and cupcake-filled baby.)
Today's Lesson: Too often in life, the crazy just finds you. You can choose to ignore it. Which is probably the most personally healthy option. Or you can blog about it, pissing yourself off again, but allowing others to hopefully get a laugh in at the same time. You're welcome, friends.