Blood Test

What a day. Missed my morning dog run. Doberwoman is aware. Violates my contract and I'm out of Integrity. I wanted to hear a very refined lady sing around 1400 hrs. Now, I'm not so sure I can fit that in. Pulling out of the drive way, I narrowly miss Trophy Wife pulling in. Never saw her. Driving to work, I felt like a million bucks and that I was going to live forever. That comes to me, even as I remember that David's last words were, "What a beautiful day!". I pull in to my parking lot and my perfect space is available. Just as I lock my car door, I recall what is wrong with this picture: I have an appointment to have my blood drawn. For a nano-moment I consider postponing my PSA count until this afternoon. No: leave everything in its allotted space, I decide that. Even if I lose my parking space. Nurse Ratchet pokes her allotted half a dozen holes in my arms before she has enough of my blood. We're having Monday morning on Friday, she tells me. I don't care: it's still a beautiful day. My parking place was taken. but we were able to fit in Doberwoman's run in the afternoon.