Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Pardon Me? Are you speaking to me?

So, I'm sitting there in my counselor's office, discussing how to get around missing my last class before my surgery without getting an incomplete and not graduating (aagghhhh). It can be done.

Now, when I say my counselor, I mean a young, fresh faced recent college graduate. Let me emphasize that again, YOUNG. I'm thinking 23-24 at the most.
As I walk out the door, I hear "Umm, Ms. R******?, May I ask you a question?" I turn and say "sure, whatcha need?" and this is what I got:

"At YOUR AGE, how do you do it?"

I was taken aback, truly I was. I actually looked around me, looked behind me and was thinking "is she talking to me? my age? Huh?"
I had no reply for her that could be taken in any other way than a sarcastic shitty ass remark, so I went for it. Needless to say, I'm glad I asked for her help before I replied:

"If I take my Geritol everyday, I get along pretty good, some days are harder than others, but I'm lucky, I have a great family who put me in a assisted living nursing home" and I walked out, slamming the door behind me. I think my blood pressure actually went up to 120/80.

Ya know, I thought over the weekend I found my first wrinkle. Thank God, it was my paranoid self. No wrinkles. Now I have some young chickie thinking I'm ready for retirement. I'm not sure which is worse.

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