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wakeiseiyoYou know, I never have figured out whatinhell my blood type is.
If anyone remembers the ridonculously thorough-yet-inconclusive bloodwork I did in July, well... it tells me EVERYTHING about my blood. Except the type. o.O: I know my farkin' platelet count, but if someone asked me if I was A pos or O neg, I would only be able to shrug and respond with, "er, red." And even that isn't so hot - the only abnormal number was the CO2, hence the bright fire engine red instead of the dark blackish stuff I'm used to. Apparently, fasting means my lungs stop giving a crap about getting oxygen to much beyond my chest cavity.
... I swear I'm not in withdrawal from House because I netflixed it all and now I'm caught up on what's on DVD and it's too late in the season and I don't have TiVo to keep up with what's on right now and OMG the last episode of Season Two was such a damn cliffhanger. *twitch* ... Good GOD I love that show.
So. Point of this post: anyone know how to figure out your blood type? Because I really effin' want to know. I've gotta be able to read a Japanese horoscope SOMEDAY.
Also, I need money, dammit! Full moon this weekend and I wanna be able to afford the Little Lunacy, if it sounds good. (Oddly enough, none of the winter LE scents appealed to me. Apparently, I wear winter colors but like to smell like autumn. Go figure.)
Made huevos rancheros for dinner, bought a ton of cheapo muffin mixes to play with, as well as flavored coffee and fresh creamer (yes, Coffeemate CAN go bad. My mother thinks that *I* have no sense of taste. o.O: I may eat Taco Bell gladly, but soured French Vanilla? That's pushing it.). And it's egg nog season! Whee! so I have egg nog and amaretto to ward off the Friday night chills. Huzzah.
Work went okay today. Hammered out a few more of the 'can we try to prioritize?' details (really, when I don't know even what's important, and I'm trying to learn the whole new office, dealing with an older, more sarcastic version of myself is... less than helpful. [Kinda like working for House before going through med school.] Adore my supervisor, but her lack of teaching skills is driving me nuts. At least she bit the bullet long enough to make me a calendar-style priority list of the week. It's more visual than a plain-font list that's not entirely clear.) However, the encouragement to leave ON TIME and take a FULL HOUR for lunch means that I've got the busy environment I want without the ridiculous expectations I've been subject to in the past, like working through my lunch, or being guilt-tripped for actually asking to be paid for the actual hours I worked. I'm only a LITTLE bitter about that. Really. [And honestly? I can't tell if I'm more bitter that it happened, or that my starry-eyed optimism toward individuals of the human species LET it happen so often and for so damn long. People suck, but persons are generally okay.] Did I mention the hospital is little more than ER, NICU/OB, and psych wards? We deal with the trauma, the knocked-ups, and the crazies. (And occasionaly, the convicts.) Guess which group wanted to call admin incessantly today about a medical issue? (Really, people, it's like trying to shop for groceries at Staples. WE CAN'T HELP YOU.) Mom-of-Crazy is calling about something she's pissed about, the guy in charge of the crazies unit has tried to talk to her repeatedly, there are a variety of legal issues, and at four-thirty, she's calling the admin office again DEMANDING that I (the lucky sod who answered the phone) go out to the parking lot to meet her. [Lady, it's sunset, you're the parent of a nutzo and apparently that apple didn't drop far from the tree, what the HELL makes you think I'm going to go out in the dark in a crap part of town where you and your crazy-posse can beat me up? FUCK NO.] Today was fun. Oh yes. o.O:: (Did I mention this job is never boring?)
Also, I need my paycheck because I need to repair my tire(s?) - had the joy of finding out I was driving on little more than my right front rim for about two miles and thinking the street was unusually rough. It's more than just a slow leak - it's an aggravatingly fast one that gives me about 12 hours between fills, if I drive conservatively. Calling the tire place tomorrow to see if they have time before I have to go to Los Angeles on Sunday, otherwise I'm going to be trying to put air in my tires while wearing kimono. Oy. I don't really want to test the staying power of 75 cents at the air pump on the 101 freeway. o.o: And I already bought my ticket. Dammit. (Not to mention the food is ridiculously good. And made by priests!)
Having the house to myself is such an odd feeling. [No, wait... that's the dogs leaving me a 'present' for being gone all day. Little bastards.] I become Betty Crocker Homemaker; I did some garage sorting, I've been baking, cleaning... it's downright SICK how I spend my free time for FUN. (Most people call casual acquaintances for booze and sex and a night on the town. Me? I hit up the local supermarket. Jeebus.)
... And I think I need to watch more than Netflix - what the hell is Borat? o.O;
Amaretto's kicking in. Time for bed, methinks.
If anyone remembers the ridonculously thorough-yet-inconclusive bloodwork I did in July, well... it tells me EVERYTHING about my blood. Except the type. o.O: I know my farkin' platelet count, but if someone asked me if I was A pos or O neg, I would only be able to shrug and respond with, "er, red." And even that isn't so hot - the only abnormal number was the CO2, hence the bright fire engine red instead of the dark blackish stuff I'm used to. Apparently, fasting means my lungs stop giving a crap about getting oxygen to much beyond my chest cavity.
... I swear I'm not in withdrawal from House because I netflixed it all and now I'm caught up on what's on DVD and it's too late in the season and I don't have TiVo to keep up with what's on right now and OMG the last episode of Season Two was such a damn cliffhanger. *twitch* ... Good GOD I love that show.
So. Point of this post: anyone know how to figure out your blood type? Because I really effin' want to know. I've gotta be able to read a Japanese horoscope SOMEDAY.
Also, I need money, dammit! Full moon this weekend and I wanna be able to afford the Little Lunacy, if it sounds good. (Oddly enough, none of the winter LE scents appealed to me. Apparently, I wear winter colors but like to smell like autumn. Go figure.)
Made huevos rancheros for dinner, bought a ton of cheapo muffin mixes to play with, as well as flavored coffee and fresh creamer (yes, Coffeemate CAN go bad. My mother thinks that *I* have no sense of taste. o.O: I may eat Taco Bell gladly, but soured French Vanilla? That's pushing it.). And it's egg nog season! Whee! so I have egg nog and amaretto to ward off the Friday night chills. Huzzah.
Work went okay today. Hammered out a few more of the 'can we try to prioritize?' details (really, when I don't know even what's important, and I'm trying to learn the whole new office, dealing with an older, more sarcastic version of myself is... less than helpful. [Kinda like working for House before going through med school.] Adore my supervisor, but her lack of teaching skills is driving me nuts. At least she bit the bullet long enough to make me a calendar-style priority list of the week. It's more visual than a plain-font list that's not entirely clear.) However, the encouragement to leave ON TIME and take a FULL HOUR for lunch means that I've got the busy environment I want without the ridiculous expectations I've been subject to in the past, like working through my lunch, or being guilt-tripped for actually asking to be paid for the actual hours I worked. I'm only a LITTLE bitter about that. Really. [And honestly? I can't tell if I'm more bitter that it happened, or that my starry-eyed optimism toward individuals of the human species LET it happen so often and for so damn long. People suck, but persons are generally okay.] Did I mention the hospital is little more than ER, NICU/OB, and psych wards? We deal with the trauma, the knocked-ups, and the crazies. (And occasionaly, the convicts.) Guess which group wanted to call admin incessantly today about a medical issue? (Really, people, it's like trying to shop for groceries at Staples. WE CAN'T HELP YOU.) Mom-of-Crazy is calling about something she's pissed about, the guy in charge of the crazies unit has tried to talk to her repeatedly, there are a variety of legal issues, and at four-thirty, she's calling the admin office again DEMANDING that I (the lucky sod who answered the phone) go out to the parking lot to meet her. [Lady, it's sunset, you're the parent of a nutzo and apparently that apple didn't drop far from the tree, what the HELL makes you think I'm going to go out in the dark in a crap part of town where you and your crazy-posse can beat me up? FUCK NO.] Today was fun. Oh yes. o.O:: (Did I mention this job is never boring?)
Also, I need my paycheck because I need to repair my tire(s?) - had the joy of finding out I was driving on little more than my right front rim for about two miles and thinking the street was unusually rough. It's more than just a slow leak - it's an aggravatingly fast one that gives me about 12 hours between fills, if I drive conservatively. Calling the tire place tomorrow to see if they have time before I have to go to Los Angeles on Sunday, otherwise I'm going to be trying to put air in my tires while wearing kimono. Oy. I don't really want to test the staying power of 75 cents at the air pump on the 101 freeway. o.o: And I already bought my ticket. Dammit. (Not to mention the food is ridiculously good. And made by priests!)
Having the house to myself is such an odd feeling. [No, wait... that's the dogs leaving me a 'present' for being gone all day. Little bastards.] I become Betty Crocker Homemaker; I did some garage sorting, I've been baking, cleaning... it's downright SICK how I spend my free time for FUN. (Most people call casual acquaintances for booze and sex and a night on the town. Me? I hit up the local supermarket. Jeebus.)
... And I think I need to watch more than Netflix - what the hell is Borat? o.O;
Amaretto's kicking in. Time for bed, methinks.
