Sidetracked



Cloudburst

Mikki left me here all alone and I am convinced that there is a tornado outside. I thought I heard the tornado siren go off, but when I stepped onto my porch to listen I couldn't here it.
What if I missed the siren?!
I have laundry downstairs in the laundry room and I'm afraid to go get it.
What if the tornado scoops me up right when I walk outside?!
I am sick of this weather. Every morning I have to wade through the lake my car is parked in, resulting in my shoes, socks, and feet getting soaked. I lost my umbrella sometime last week, so now I get to trudge through the downpour on my way to class, with my hoodie pulled over my head, and I usually manage to splash right into every sidewalk river I come to.
Then I squeak into class about 15 minutes late, and spend the rest of the day (a good six or seven hours) in ice-cold, saturated jeans and shoes.
They should just cancel class.
I had to go to the doctor today. It's a womanly problem and something most people would rather not know about, so I'll keep the illness to myself.
But as I lay there, sprawled out on the table with my feet in the stirrups, I thought about how gross it would be to be a gynecologist. I mean, most of the stuff they treat is no big deal, but they probably see some pretty disgusting cases.
As I was thinking about this, the nurse asked me if I was doing okay. I nodded, but then I got to thinking about what a ridiculous question that was. Obviously I wasn't okay or else I wouldn't be at the doctor, and secondly, it's never a pleasant situation to be put in that position, literally. And I love how the doctor gives you the worst case scenario diagnosis, but then says she won't know until the lab results come back. Thanks a lot. Now I'll be worried that there is something horribly wrong with me for a week, and I won't even know if it's true or not.
Ugh.

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