Would You Like To Touch My Monkey?

I have no idea why I named this post that. Does anyone remember Dieter on SNL? (Touch him, love him.)

Things are pretty boring around here. I've been doing the most tedious jobs at work. Ugh! It makes the day so much longer. My boss gave me the job of dealing with these two young women who are trying to start a beauty salon. He basically couldn't deal with their indecisiveness. They had someone design the ugliest sign I have ever seen. I decided to tell them gently that I thought it sucked. I designed a new one that is quite gaudy but I knew they would love it. It's pink with butterflies. Can I call 'em or what?

Thanks to everyone who played along with my experiment. Both things really did happen. Someone said they were sure that my mother never would have let me walk home alone. Remember this was the 70's and a much more gentle time. It was also Spring and I had been walking the route every day since Fall.

I've spent the better part of the week trying to track down all of my medical records which I need for my weight loss surgery appeal. They are in 3 different places. The first place was really nice. The lady told me I had to sign a form but that I could do it when I picked up my copies. They had to be found in storage which took 7 days.

The second place was incredibly ridiculous. The lady told me that she couldn't fax me the form and I wasn't allowed to pick it up. It had to be mailed to my home and once I mailed (she wouldn't allow me to drop it off) back, she would then begin the process of tracking down my files. Once she finds them, you guessed it, she has to mail them back. She claims it has to do with the HIPPA laws. I call bullshit!

The rest of my records are with my primary care physician and I have to pick them up tomorrow.

It's weird to read the actual notes of your physician. I felt very sad when I read some of mine. It seemed that every time I saw a doctor I was asked to visit a dietician. I always declined because it's not like I don't know what to eat. My mother was a Weight Watcher lecturer for 10 years when I was growing up. She taught me well. It's my brain that can't get the idea of when to stop.

People that haven't had a weight problem have no clue what the obese deal with. It's like telling an alcoholic you have to have one drink, and one drink only to survive. The behaviors are the same. Addiction sucks!