This PC responds pretty fast. You know what would be really cool… if the internet was loading pages with the same resolve. But then again, outside the blog-sphere, what else am I going to surf? The gadget blogs are taking their sweet time to update. And even then, I log on with some preconceived expectation that never yields much. I have a rough idea of what portable media player I want (Zune HD, santa!) and what kind of phone I’m after (Nokia’s X6 or X3…or Sony Ericsson Aino, santa you red suited so and so, are you listening? Are you reading?) so why do I bother to keep checking. It only serves to confuse me further. I’ve harboured lustful thoughts for HTC’s Pure, but I suspect it is just a phase…
What sort of doctor’s are you guys consulting? It used to be such that I’d go see some graying old man with what may or may not have been whooping cough and then left after getting my diagnosis. In fact, I could comfortably say that I looked forward to these visits with about as much anticipation as an animal about to have its ****icles removed without anesthesia… lately however, I go see my doctor and it’s like I’m visiting an old friend, not an old fiend.
Then it got interesting (with a shade of weird)…
I’ve matured to the point that the doctors I go see are peeps I went to school with. And I don’t mean that in a “what school did you go to, I was there 30 years ago, where you even born’ sort of way. These people were either my classmates or a year below. I never seem to visit doctors that were a few classes ahead, which is just as well, coz I wouldn’t trust the guy that asked me to go and fill his bottomless cup with sugar from my ‘grab box’. Dude may ask me to fill his bank account with similar qualities…
The thing is…
I’m not comfortable relaying issues confidential to people I went to class with either. It’s not so much that they will be flappin’ their gums the moment the opportunity arises… but shit, what if?
I don’t want to be meeting peeps in social circles and havin them cast the sympathetic eye my way and saying, “Ivan” sigh “Man, I’m sorry, but that shit goes away…”
And for all I care, the peeps in the lower classes may have a score to settle. What if they prescribe something that elicits the following response when the ‘moment’ arises (I was going to say, ‘when the moment comes’ but that would have been much too easy’)… so when the moment arises, “stop playing, where’s the rest of it?’