life's been weird so far.

if your uncorrected eyesight is 20/20 or you opt for only one type of corrective lenses, I pity you. you have never experienced the joys of your depth perception compensating for the distance change between the lens and your eye. has that stair always been two inches higher/lower? no, it hasn't. and no, you're not currently riding a true-to-life carousel.

add to this feeling, one driver's side door frozen open. I don't always hit every green light between Marstons Mills and Cape Cod Hospital, but when I do, I have to summon every ounce of strength in my left arm to keep my car door closed. no respite for the nursing student actively avoiding exercise, I suppose. I parked, threw my body weight into the door, and simultaneously locked the door. I was too nervous to check whether or not the lock-to-close approach worked, so I prayerfully walked away. Though to be honest, since the only time the serpentine belt seems to shut its damn mouth is at the Ford dealership and the car door had been frozen open, I joked that the only thing I'd miss about the car was the Twizzlers.

and I hate Twizzlers.

Each time I visited one patient, he would interrupt whatever I did/said/thought with the question, "Are you married? I don't see a ring on your finger." Cool, I was asking about your bowel movements; but no, friend, I am not married. After I was asked three more times if I was married yet, I replied, "yeah. we found a justice of the peace in the cafeteria. I'm really happy." he caught onto my joke immediately. he wagged his finger and told me that a sense of humor was just another perk of marrying me. Just then, a fabulous aide on the floor walked in to take his noon vitals. She was offered the same question I'd endured all morning. no, she is not married, either.

He was flabbergasted. He asked us why not? (as if the answer to that question could be easily answered before I was to evacuate the floor -- in negative five minutes.) She cleverly answered, "You should ask my ex-boyfriend." The patient laughed and tried to apply the same excuse to me. I laughed and said, "no, you really shouldn't ask him that. I would be afraid to hear the theories."

Later, I joined Maura for dinner. We decided while the food was cookin' that we needed a vegetable peeler... and later, dessert. We ambled around Ocean State Job Lot, for our respective second times. We tiptoed around the place in partial awe, partial fear until we found what we were looking for: vegetable peeler, Dr. Oetker brownie mix, and a pan -- just in case. Mid-Victoria's Secret mishap story, Maura quit speaking in line. She stared dead ahead. It finally occurred to me to follow her gaze. The man in front of us in line was our favorite Sam Diego's waiter: the amicable, irrepressible CJ who puts up with our constant stream of nonsense and gives it right back.

He judged our purchase combination and asked us aloud, "Are you guys making marijuana brownies?"
Instead of retorting with a judgment of my own, I answered, "nope. sweet potato fries." NOT "peanut butter and bubble wrap, CJ -- you's a FREAK!" oh, well. missed opportunities.
"Sweet potato fries for after your marijuana brownies?"
"Have you met me once? no. I don't do that." He laughed, paid his debts, and left the building. The poor cashier made no eye contact and minimal verbal contact -- if any. her expression read that our silliness is above her paygrade. And then he almost ran me over with his car. I rescind my hug.

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And here are some quotes that are better left unexplained.

"Hear that? You have really nice veins for a ginger."
PRO TIP: DO NOT CONSULT GOOGLE FOR WHY REDHEADS ARE MORE DIFFICULT TO START IV'S ON. results are NSFW.

"Things cost money. Yay, capitalism."

"I'm excited enough for the both of us."
"You're not invited."