Personal

Seen, Heard, Done

Last summer, I dealt with my urinary tract. This summer, it’s everything else. I went to the allergist on Friday for the first set of scratch tests on my back. (I am still experiencing phantom itching.) Yesterday, a fasting blood test. I think the allergist wants to rule out any other conditions that might explain my symptoms. For various reasons, I didn’t make it to the lab for my blood test until about 3:00. No fainting or even lightheadedness this time, but I must have had low blood sugar from not eating.

Since I was by the mall, I went to the post office and Target. I left my cart on the aisle to look at the clothes and unmentionables. I could hear a group of Target associates having way too much fun while stocking a new arrival of shoes. They were talking about which ones they might want to buy and laughing and presumably getting some work done. After a tour through the clothing department yielded nothing of interest, I returned to the aisle for my cart (filled only with Excedrin and 1% hydrocortizone cream) and started pushing it. Suddenly, crash, clang, boing, boing… and a quick cessation of the women’s fun. It wasn’t my cart at all, but a cart full of shelving components for the shoe department. How I missed the difference is beyond me. I apologized profusely, helped them retrieve the hooks and platforms, and then hurriedly went to another part of the store.

I heard a couple in the baby department talking as I passed it. “You aren’t getting pregnant,” the man said. Sounds familiar. “The closest thing you have to a boyfriend is gay.” Not so much. “And I know because I’m him.”

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