...and I'll supply the entertainment.

After completely disregarding my vow to simplify my life, I scheduled both my annual physical and blood donation on the same day.  I was up at the crap of dawn (as Kay would have said) - my usual time of rising - tried to focus on things other than I could not have even one cup of coffee, spent some time on my latest knitting project (to be revealed), and fed the dogs early.  As soon as it was lightish, I battled my way to the sheep feeder with their winter grain ration (it's like wading through bumper cars), then threw some hay in their feeder.  I did chicken chores, took a 5 minute shower and left the house at 7:30 for my 8:15 appointment.  Luckily, the only traffic on the road at that hour were feed trucks, milk trucks and me.  It helped that it was a holiday - no school buses!

I like everything about my doctor's office except for the fact that they are as cheap as I am with the heat.  Geez.  My doctor and her staff are the polar opposites of the doctor I had been going to for years.  Laid back, open to suggestion, willing to take as much time as needed to talk to you, let you babble on, do not force medication on you.  The only drawback is that the laid back attitude sometimes leaches into the checkout system.  I was standing, slumped against the wall (fasting will do that to you), waiting for a very elderly woman to finish checking out.  Who couldn't hear well and was, apparently, accompanied by her loud, bossy daughter.  Who, apparently, felt that NONE of us could hear well.  I was finally saved by one of the check IN ladies and was given my paperwork for the lab.  After my brief and mostly pain-free visit to Mrs. Dracula, I was off for the day.  Except for the six errands between the doctor's office and home.

I pulled up the driveway with just enough time to let the dogs out and have a quick bite (and a cup o' joe or three) before doing some quick house cleaning and heading out to the local firehouse for my appointment for the blood drive.  I have to say that the folks who work these blood drives are very nice.  They are efficient, friendly and professional.  As I jabbered along with Stephanie, my check-in (adorable) young woman, I learned that she had a grandmother who had raised sheep, sheared them and had won numerous awards for her knitted blankets.  As I lay supine on the cot, squeezing my squeeze ball, I contemplated the level of filth on the ceiling fan blades.  I listened to bad music and the babbling of voices around me.  It was rather nice to have down time and do something good at the same time.

Steven (a gentle, bearded giant), unhooked me and made sure I was good to toddle over to the snacks and drink table, which was manned by a pair of slightly disinterested high school seniors - this drive being part of the community service duty.  I sat on my folding chair, chatting with the town supervisor (who I caught breaking his no-carb diet with a few - dozen - packets of cheese crackers).  Then I felt slightly lightheaded.  I figured it would pass and it did, sort of.  As in pass out.  Next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor with my feet elevated, gazing into the worried face of the giant.  Well, that was different.  After a few minutes, we tried it again, and I was now sitting at the table with a pair of less disinterested high school seniors.  In fact, they looked downright alarmed.  A few minutes later?  Rinse, wash, repeat.  This time, Steven slowly and gently, but firmly guided me back to a cot, where I got to contemplate the mummified flies clinging to the fringe on the flag of NYS.  He would not take my word that I was okay - not that I blame him.  Another fifteen minutes pass and I am starting to flop like a beached fish because I want down.  He practically carried me back to the snacks table where I promised to down two bottles of water and a container of juice.  By then, I was down to one alarmed high school senior who turned out to be delightful.  We had a grand time discussing colleges, traveling, school sports, and girls.

When I was finally allowed to leave on my own power, I turned to the young fellow and asked if he was doing this for community service credit.  He said that, yes, he was and it had been really, really boring until I turned up.