This week has been one of pure, maniac ridiculousness.
My girlfriend offered to take all 3 kids (thanks Rebekah) one afternoon so I cleverly planned a hot Friday afternoon/early evening schedule for myself. I planned to pay bills, hit Sam’s Club and get my eyes checked.
I didn’t get Elam’s preschool bill paid for and was late heading to buy my $1.49 bunch of bananas, but I slid into my 4:40 appointment at 4:43.
Why shouldn’t there be a problem with my insurance? Why wouldn’t I have to fill out 100 feet of paperwork as if I were a new patient? Why wouldn’t my regular doc be out on maternity leave?
5:15 rolled around and I finally got in to the first eye tests with the woman who had given me a little trouble with the insurance…
To be fair, I had forgotten to get clarity from Brian on our new eye care plan. They needed the information right then and there, before we started the exam, since they’d be billing in the next 10 microminutes and couldn’t wait until Monday at 3pm when my all-knowing, “man of the insurance house” would be in that very office to clear up all of my ignorant SAHM moments.*
I tried to be kind and patient but really…insurance. Bane of my existence. If Brian ever gets hit by a semi on Highway 2 heading to Bemidji State, I will need a personal insurance agent like those State Farm people who pop up whenever people have accidents on TV. They always have such nice jackets.
Well, I tried to warm up to her but just couldn’t. Even I couldn’t think of anything funny to say. I was still reeling from losing precious, restful, sitting in a waiting room wait time on my iPad or with my Return of the King book.
Then the doctor came in. I should have known it was going to be a long appointment when he started talking about vitamins, genetics and heredity of disease within 30 seconds of entering the examining room.
We found we had a commonality: we had both adopted our sons (his from Korea a long time ago, before it was very socially acceptable). Somehow I told him it had been a long week and I was a little spacey.
He gave me a hard time when I paused between his “which is better, 1 or 2?” I really couldn’t tell sometimes!
He pulled up a card for me to read with both eyes at one point and I said, “mountain sides… isn’t that one word? And what’s with the lack of punctuation on this?”
“You are a scream. If you want to contact the author, this is from the book Heidi. Take it up with him.”
The 45 minute exam went something like this. Back and forth, some funny stories and I thought we had built some rapport. Then he walked me out to the reception area and the 2 assistants (the ones I had had some trouble with regarding insurance…). He eventually started talking about me as if I were not there. “She is having some trouble with her lenses, but I think she’s sensitive. Her prescription is actually too strong…” So I said, “You know I can hear you right?” “Yes but I want my assistant to know what happened back there.” Turning to said assistant, “She’s also a diva.”
I have never in my entire 38 years of life been called a “diva” – at least not to my face.
I told him I’d need to have therapy now. My optometrist called me a “scream” in private but in public, I got “sensitive” and “diva.”
Not sure how to process that the optometrist managed to peg me today after peering into my eyes, but perhaps the “eyes are the windows to the soul” thing is true.
When things go poorly at home like they have this week, I get self-centered more than usual. Traffic annoys me as if I am the center of the universe. Stoplights serve me or curse me. Parking spots, the line at the car wash, paper cuts and catching the random webbing inside my jacket on the door knob while I race into the garage to loosen XS from his blasted car seat after I thought he was already loose. All these things make it feel as if the stars are seriously aligned against my team and me.
True confession: sometimes I think the world revolves around me, Brian’s constant travel schedule, our adoption and my aching knee.
And then when I’m at the eye doc, hoping to fix my squinting and get a soul-check, it made me need a blog.
What a way to spend a Friday night !
*SAHM: Stay At Home Mom