the world won`t turn until something breaks

listening: ben folds, bruised

So. We meet again, Blogger.

Going back to school has already been a whirlwind of activity. It has been tests, review, more tests, a quick break for a celiac blood test, and...review. Who`d have thought it?

Yeah, the blood test. Being that Mom was diagnosed with it a little over 2 or 3 weeks ago, all her immediate family members (i. e. children) must be tested or be taken out by Bruce Willis in a helicopter gunship. Yes, that is how Health Canada works.

And we`re off topic again. Back to the blood test. My appointment was at 12, so being a good pragmatic kind of guy, I dutifully left math ten minutes early in order to make it to Ranchlands to the BUSIEST LAB EVER.

Of course, my flawed logic made it appear that the BUSIEST LAB EVER would be running ahead of schedule to accommodate the sweating hordes of the elderly. At 12:35, a full seven minutes after the start of Chem, I began to see why the hordes were sweating. I was informed by the kindly gentleman next to me that his appointment was at 11:25, and he was still waiting. With a nervous gulp, I settled in with some music and my Kindle app to wait it out. Finally, a full hour after my appointment time, I was escorted (rushed) into a room and was instructed to roll up my sleeve before I had set foot in the doorway. After shimmying out of my plaid shirt and rolling up the sleeve of my waffle knit undershirt, I was surprised to feel the tourniquet already being tied around my arm. I began to wonder, how on earth can they be this speedy and still be running an hour behind? Approximately 3.2 seconds later, 4 vials had been extracted from my arm and I was escorted out of the building.

Without my Alberta Health Care Card.

Needless to say, this is why they are running so far behind. The nice Chinese woman behind the counter who had taken my card insisted that I hadn`t been inside there before, and that I must talk to the lady who had stabbed my arm Aragorn-style. Three minutes later, I was in my car trying to navigate the clueless hordes in the parking lot. Now, I am fairly confident that there are 3 types of drivers. Good, bad, and downright stupid. After several near misses, including an Oriental woman barreling into the parking lot at 3 and a half times the speed of sound heading right for my drivers` side door, I was out and back on my way to school. Note the time: 1:20.

-brett