why is twelve-pound tuesday seeming like just another deadline? I love twelve-pound tuesday. but I’m not ready for it yet, I haven’t got half the things I want to send. ok…I do have most of the stuff. just not all. luckily I have no work tomorrow! so I can go shopping, and mail the package, and hopefully even go get more drugs. from the doctor, I mean.
jacopo drove down to sandy last night, ’cause the strong family men’s hike starts today. so I talked to him during the drive. good times. he told me some interesting ideas he has for stories, plus some older bits and pieces of other stories. honestly, he has the most intricate ideas and worlds. I’m not sure if he realizes how impressive it is. if he isn’t ever going to get around to writing everything down, I’m going out to utah with a tape recorder and make him tell me all the stories. for me, if nothing else.
I’m on hold with the doctor’s office, trying to make an appointment…typing one-handed so my neck doesn’t kill me from holding the phone all weird.
I did make a new be attles cd, and it works marvelously. listening to the beatles almost always makes me think of jarom, but particularly this part of “in my life”:
“but of all these friends and lovers
there is no one compares with you
and these memories lose their meaning
when I think of love as something new
though I know I’ll never lose affection
for people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
in my life, I love you more”
ah…I’ve outwitted the finks! the receptionist asked what I needed an appointment for, and I said it’d be a followup on my headaches. apparently I can’t make a followup visit to see ron mandrell, the physician’s assistant who I talked to before about my headaches, because “he’s a physician’s assistant, not a primary care physician, so he can’t follow [my] healthcare.” …ok, but he told me to come see him again. the receptionist didn’t care, though. then I got smart.
“…can I make an appointment to see him for something else?” I asked.
she sounded dubious. “for what?”
a moment of silence. “an ear infection,” I replied.
she wasn’t buying it. “you want to see ron mandrell because you have an ear infection.” I said yes. we both knew I was lying, but she couldn’t call me on it, could she?