A Day in the Life of the Cursed

I watched these two videos on Saturday. Each sent to me by different people. I laughed because they're funny, closed the window and moved on.





This morning, I woke up with both of these songs running interchangeably through my head. One annoying, humorous song traded for the other and then finally (by the time I hit the shower) they were one song. It was terrifying. And amusing.

Today was also the first day of the WASL. For those of you who aren't in WA and therefore have not been hearing this acronym being used as if it were a real word (pronounced wossle) all year long, it's our statewide assessment to monitor students' progress, hold teachers accountable and add anxiety to small children worrying about passing the 3rd grade. It's also boring. I sat and watched five sixth graders take the test today. Then left at noon because I had to go to the doctor.

A funny thing happens when you wait too long to see a doctor. They make you come back for additional tests. Or, if you're me, they make you go to the hospital for some outpatient procedures. First, they want to slice my eyelid open because I have a blocked thingamajiggy. Then they want to shove a video camera down my throat to see why I might be gagging on things... by making me gag on a camera. Then they want to do an ultrasound on my belly but they're not looking for babies. They're looking for ulcers. Also, she sent in the guy that draws blood. And he was gorgeous and funny and went to Harvard. Everything was going well until I asked him if I had to remove my cardigan in order to get to my arm.
"Hahaha! What did you say?"
"I asked you if I had to remove my cardigan."
"Cardigan? Did you really just use the word cardigan? It's not just a sweater. Wow, a cardigan."
"Haha... ha... huh..."
He laughed for five minutes. And I did too. Hopefully convincingly. Because I didn't get it. Then he stabbed me with a needle and took lots of blood. But right before he did I told him that I would be looking away because I don't like needles. Or blood. Even on TV. So he felt compelled to tell me, while he was drawing my blood, about some guy he treated a few years ago as a resident who had tried to commit suicide by shooting himself in the head but wasn't successful and so he was living with half of a face and exactly what that looked like and I tried my best to look interested instead of terrified all the while thinking to myself, "Why is he telling me this?! Didn't I just get done saying that I don't like blood?!" But then he changed topic to another guy he treated who also was unsuccessful in the suicide department who had jumped out of a third story window. I almost hurled. But it did take my mind off of the needle in my arm.

Also, my tabs are expired. And since I had UT plates I had to get an emissions test and then go to the DMV to get new WA plates and tabs. But on the way to the emissions place, I got into another car accident. This time my dad was driving. My dad hasn't gotten in an accident in... well... never. My dad has never been in a car accident. But suddenly he's behind the wheel of my VooDoo car and boom! Literally. We got rear-ended. It sucked. But I still passed my emissions test. $15. And was able to get my license plate and tabs. $88.

On a side note, I've been planting things lately. I suddenly have a desire to watch seeds grow. I'm growing several types of flowers and vegetables. It's not easy considering I have only a small windowsill where small plants can receive sunlight and because I don't actually have a yard to plant them in once they grow out of their tiny starter pots. So, it looks like my parents are getting a garden this year. Because I'll be going up this weekend to dig up part of their backyard to transplant my tiny plants.

Tiny seeds growing. Like my heart.