This morning I went to the doctor's office to have my blood drawn for some routine blood work. While there, I asked the receptionist if I could make an appointment that would give me longer than fifteen minutes in the doctor's presence. She said no. I burst into tears, somehow got myself out of the office, and cried all the way home.
A couple of hours later, Lola got home from Girls' Camp. We rushed into each other's arms and burst into tears.
Daltonboy called at lunchtime. Asked how I was doing. Almost started crying as I answered, "Um, fine."
Let's consider the following reasons I typically cry as I ask myself a few searching questions.
Q: Am I pregnant?
A: No.
Q: Suffering from Premenstrual Syndrome?
A: No.
Q: Lack of sleep?
A: No.
Q: Argument with husband?
A: No.
Q: Hurt feelings by crazy neighbors?
A: No.
Q: One or more limbs caught in a turbine?
A: No.
I have been drinking a lot of water lately. Maybe there's something to that medical condition Limon once referred to. Have made mental note to discuss this possibility with doctor during fifteen-minute visit.
4 comments:
Excellent job of referring to the crying urine post.
You should have hung out with me on Sunday. I think that I cried or stopped myself from crying every five minutes.
Well, now I see that Lola comes by it naturally. A little must have rubbed off on me, as I have felt bluish-black all day. Or it may be the excedrin. Or PTA withdrawal. Or that my friend outed me as a flasher on her blog. I'm gonna start again. Excuse me while I find the tissues.
I don't get girls. In every possible sense of the phrase. Maybe they help explain each other.
What's wrong with crying?
Signed
Dick Vermeil, missionaries and losers...
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