Sorry no update for awhile. I had a bad case of bronchitis for the past 5 days. Strangely, the famous high school remedy of smoking only method cigarettes during such illnesses did nothing for me.

I went to the waiting room...I mean the walk-in clinic yesterday.

I don't know who these doctors think they are. I gave up three freegin' hours out of my life, just to wait for this guy. I mean, diplomats don't wait that long when visiting royalty. I wonder how long it'll be before these doctors start expecting us to bow when they enter the room.

Anyways, after three wasted hours, I get visited by some doctor that's not yet a doctor. A student doctor, or whatever they call them. Doctor in training. Doc's lil' buddy. Little fella', whatever.

Anyways Mini Me comes in with a chart and the first thing the guy does is fucking shake my hand.

Seriously.

What the fuck are they training these kids at med school?

I mean, NOT shaking a patient's hand that probably has bronchitis should of been taught on day uno.

I dismissed the guy for the jerkoff that he was in a record 2.7 seconds flat, and prepared myself for the worst.

So how this was going to work, the flunky gets to evaluate me, saving the real doctor a whole 5 minutes of his precious, precious time.

After Dipity Doc comes to the conclusion that I have Bronchitis, something I told the receptionist at the front desk three hours ago, he relays the info and his recommendation to His Royal Highness, who in turn makes me wait another half an hour before showing his magnificence before me to write a prescription for some antibiotics.

I could not have of designed a more ridiculous and wasteful system if I had a meeting with every diabolical mind on the planet.

I should also note that the little dipshit shook my hand one last time before he left, just to make sure he that took advantage of that nasty bacterial infection that I was saturated with.

And people wonder why I'm so bitter.

Nipples. I swear, there's no place left to hide anymore.

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