Run. Dog. Cat. Cat. Me.

Suspicious Minds

Well, Boy and Girl, this is my 200th post.  You’ve both been very faithful supporters.  You repeatedly encouraged me to blog; when I did you were my first two followers, and I thank you.  Everyone else wishes you’d kept your mouths shut and I will not use your real names to protect you, but thank you both, “Hermione” and “Sylvester”.  Somehow 712 people have chosen to follow this nannering, wandering blog, I thank you all also and sincerely apologize for all the lost hours and brain cells.

Things that did not happen yesterday:

1.  The tree is still not decorated although it’s fluffed and has a few shiny things hanging on it.  This time it’s because I can’t decide the best way to keep the cats from declaring it their new home and then redecorating it to suit their tastes, which is all the balls knocked off onto the floor.  I don’t like that look.  It’s…crunchy.  The vacuum doesn’t like it either, apparently and to my regret.

2.  My foot was not miraculously healed.  This made my very devout mother sad.  You’d think after all these years she would give up, but, no.  She’s absolutely convinced that at some point she is going to pray someone out of something.  Who knows?  She very well may have already, because I figure if she did then we would not know because they would have gotten prayed out of it.  My question is, what does God do up there, have a stopwatch and an excel spreadsheet?  “Okay, then, Sally beat Janie by .37 second on the praying for rain/praying for no rain, toughski shitzki, Janie, it’s going to rain on your wedding.  Pray faster next time, and also I will put you in the lose column and you’ll get a 3 second advantage on the next prayer.”

If either of you two faithful followers are still following after reading that blasphemy you should probably at least climb under your desk to continue.

This means that Dr. Awesome v.2 made my mom sad.  I should have pointed this out to him, but I expect he would still not have changed his mind.

In fact, I did sort of point it out.  I told him that he had not read the script correctly; his line was supposed to be, “WOW.  I made a mistake.  Your foot is not broken at all, I’m SO sorry.”

I would have been the bigger person here, too, and I would not have gotten upset.  I would be all magnanimous and wave my hand slightly – “oh it’s nothing, I’m sure it happens.”

But, no.  No healing.  Four more weeks and see him again.  And you know what?  I suspect that he is a very suspicious man.  He doesn’t seem to trust me and I have no idea why.  Rather like Hubs thinking I would not wear the boot.  Cynical, even.

Would this conversation make you suspicious that someone was suspicious about you?

Dr. A v.2:  “See me in four more weeks.  Call me in two weeks.”

Me: “Um, OK, why?”

Dr. A v.2:  “So I can talk you down.”

Me:  (Innocent) “What?  You don’t trust me?”

Dr. A v.2:  “You’re a runner.  I know what you will be thinking two weeks from now when your foot doesn’t hurt so much anymore.  Call me and I’ll talk you down.”

Me:  *Sigh*  *dammit*