rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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Falling apart

I had kind of a crap day yesterday. I�m not sure why. I was all set to plug away at my taxes, organize my filing with the new sexy file cabinets, go to the rec center to run, but then I did none of those things.

The surgeon�s office called to tell me my surgery date.

First the assistant complained that she�d been calling my home number (which I�d put down as the mobile phone, a phone that I didn�t have with me because Terence had it and he gets no reception in his cave/office so he never heard it ringing) �so I thought I�d try your work number (which is the home number. Still with me, here?) Yeah, it�s Thursday at 1pm--why wouldn�t you be calling me at work?

�The surgery is this Monday,� the assistant said. I guess I don�t get any say. I asked if there were alternative surgery dates, and the assistant behaved in what I now understand to be the patented �Connecticut Asshole Way� by acting all put-upon and annoyed with me. Forgive if me if I�m being too demanding by wondering if I get a voice in the matter. Is this not MY surgery we are talking about? I know the surgeon is very busy and important, but shit, so am I (sometimes.) I mean, I�ve barely wrapped my brain around the idea that I have to have an operation on MY ASS, lady! And now I get 3-4 days� notice that I have to be on an all-liquid, �no Motrin for two weeks prior,� drink this bottle of Magnesium Citrate diet?

�You did say �as soon as possible.��

�I said �soon.��

What? So now�s she�s admonishing me? What the fuck?

She said the doctor might have a date in August, but if it went beyond 30-days from the time of my first appointment, I�d have to have another consultation before scheduling surgery. So now it�s FUCKING BLACKMAIL?

I was so mad and upset. I just wanted to scream at her that I�d waited an hour to see the fucking doctor, and was I going to be credited that time? He did say 10 am, didn�t he? So why did I not see him until 11? I hung up the phone and called Terence and he said they were all jerks, the lot of them.

People from Massachusetts are derogatorily called Mass-holes in this part of the country. Hell, I�ve been known to say it when I see an MA-plated car being driven by a senseless jackass. But no more. I say people from Connecticut should henceforth be referred to as Connard-icuts.

Anyway, I hauled my pathetic person to bed for a nap and some Reading Lolita in Tehran. Nothing like being absorbed in the Iranian Revolution to put things in perspective. Boy, I have it so good here!

Looking into real estate in Paris cheered me up. Mlle Culotte is right: I shouldn�t buy property here. I should just continue saving my money and move back to Paris. That cheered me up (and also the thought of visiting her in her 10-room chateau.)

The other thing that cheered me up is that Terence came home early. He knew I was bummed out. He plopped down next to me on the bed, kissed me and told me things would be ok. As childish as that sounds, it made me feel a lot better. Then he took me to dinner and I had a giant cocktail, a yummy salad and mushroom pizza.

Never underestimate the redemptive powers of a Ketel One and Tonic.

8:57 a.m. - 2004-07-16

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