Saturday, September 27, 2003
I was going to open a checking account this afternoon, but I arrived at my bank to discover the lobby had closed at noon. That thwarted my entire plan for the early evening, for I had intended also to pick up some cash to spend on bras, black-ink Pilot pens, and clothes hangers at Target.at 4:35 PM
Oh, well. If anything, I at least accomplished my goal (thanks go to Beth for the goals) of walking two and-a-half miles. My right foot went gimp this week, but I doggedly force it to perform its duty of holding me up and taking me places. Pam suggested I visit the doctor ("Your dad said you have insurance!"), but if I consult a physician about this, I'll have to consult a physician about the myriad other ailments with which I am afflicted or could potentially become afflicted.
My eyes concern me more than anything else at the moment. I need glasses (at least for the short-run) to correct my far-sightedness. Then there lies the thrilling prospect of visiting the twat doctor. I get nauseous when a beautician cuts my hair; I can't imagine what I'll do with a foreign hand wiggling around The Glow Cave. Ewwww...
