I Need a Meal

I am very, very hungry. Ravenous. Practically ready to chew on anyone who passes by my cube.

An arm, a leg, medium rare, please.

Or, even better, a surf and turf or spicy crispy KFC or a Cobb salad or... something. Anything.

That's right; it's that time again... a routine visit to the doctor. Where I don't eat from early evening the night before and vamps called nurses or phlebotomy techs get to zuck my blood and and my wallet the present day afternoon. Who could ask for more?

Well, I can and do, of course. Things like food.. preferably served by some fantastic, phantasmagoric studly stud.

Every time I do this, my boss tells me that I should schedule my appointments in the morning so that I don't have to suffer hunger pangs the entire day. Now, anyone who has ever had a doctor or dentist appointment knows that schedules often mean diddly squat because the doctors can get backed up... which means a simple office visit can take as little as 1 hour or extend through the entire morning. And if you've got work (and/or an impatient boss) waiting for you, your time in the waiting room can be a very torturous exercise in rising blood pressure and paranoia.

Luckily for me, I don't have a boss who is a micromanager. However, I've known people who have had terrible and non-undertstanding bosses. Not only is getting time off a huge hoohah but snide remarks and other unpleasantries result... even when sick time or personal time is used as meant, which only creates extra and unnecessary stress when one is already down. Monstrous. And just plain weevil.

So wish me luck that I don't end up on homicide or manslaughter charges. All because of the vicious, gaping maw known as my gullet and belly.