The weight of things

There should be a way to gauge your anxiety and stress levels by the result of your visit with the doctor.
If you leave with a pat on the back and a “chin up, you’re going to be fine”, the you could assume that you are on the low end. Being committed puts you at the top end.
Walking out with a prescription for Ativan called into your pharmacy? I’d say that ranks pretty high.
She also seemed a tad troubled that the reflex-tap to my knees produced no results, even when I did the hand-pull thing to distract my brain. I wonder what that means. I wasn’t intentionally holding my leg still, it just wouldn’t kick. Weird.
Anyway, new doctor. She’s very nice, she listens and all that, pays attention, gives advice. Of course I had to pick a doctor on the other side of town, but really, it’s not about convenience when it comes to your GP, you have to be sure that you’ve got at least one person looking out for you (and I’m lucky, I have many people looking out for me).
Today, I made a $46 retard mistake. Was getting dressed, going to wear my Nebraska Cornhuskers/Spongebob t-shirt with my black hoodie. I was warm this morning (as I often am in the mornings, i’m like a little furnace), so I laid out my hoodie next to my coat so I would put it on as I left. When I got to work I took off my coat and realized that I forgot my hoodie. Crap. I can’t just wear a t-shirt to work, so I bundled off to the college book store and bought an MCAD sweatshirt. $46. What the hell? I suck.