The annual ‘smush-n-tug’ came up today. After arriving at what I blissfully thought was the office, I found out they had moved a few doors down to better digs. It’s still a waiting room. But some corporate brain-fart must have come up with the idea that having a mammogram done in a room with wood paneling, soothing blue colors, and green carpet would make the experience more enjoyable. Wood paneling?

Mammograms are something to be gotten through. I rank them right up there with getting your teeth cleaned at the dentist. No one likes going to the dentist, but if you want to keep up with the cavities, then you go regularly. I really hate that people get some perverse enjoyment out of scaring the bejeebers out of women with stories of how bad it is… Good grief! No one likes a yearly, but you live through them and then go reward yourself with a fatty cheeseburger and fries at your favorite establishment. Enough said. That was the ‘tits’ entry.

How can a 14 year old boy open his mouth to ask a simple question, and the whole waiting room want to slap him silly? How can so much attitude come through so few words? How did any of us ever survive knowing more than our parents? And there you have the ‘teenagers’ part.

Thought it might be something else. Gotcha’.

ciao