Crazy Stuff

Remember a couple weeks ago I told you about this guy from work who didn't know I went to church?  As one of my cube mates (Rickshaw) said today, it's hard to know where to start to try to describe him.  You also have to wonder if this guy understands how offensive some of the comments he makes are.  I don't know if he's such a different cat because he's originally from a different country, or if he's just that way.  It could be a combination of both.  I think I will nickname him Sundaes.  I have a couple interesting stories to tell you about him.

The first happened earlier this week.  He stopped by my cube and asked me how my vacation was, where I went, etc.  When he found out I went back to where I grew up, he asked if I had seen my high school sweetheart.  I told him that I hadn't.  He asked why, and I told him I didn't have a high school sweetheart.  He said that explained a lot of things about why I am the way I am because I'm emotionally damaged from not having a high school sweetheart.  Yes, he called me emotionally damaged.  Good thing I had just been to convention and could laugh at that.  Needless to say, I begged to differ.  At this point Rickshaw, who had been sitting at his desk, interjected himself into the conversation too.  From there the conversation evolved into a discussion on relationships.  Sundaes insisted that it's not possible for two people to be married for many years without kids because you would get sick of looking at each other.  He says that kids help a marriage because that way you don't have to spend so much time with your spouse.  Rickshaw and I disagreed.  We also had the old argument we usually have about how not everybody's standard of fun is the same.  I'm not sure what planet Sundaes is from, but it's a pretty crazy one from what I can tell.

Today as I was leaving for lunch, Sundaes wanted to go to lunch too, so I went to lunch with him.  The lunch conversation wasn't all that crazy (for him), although it did involve an invitation to go with him to the Bahamas or Lisbon, Portugal on vacation.  Don't worry Dad, I didn't commit to any of that.  I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm stuck in a rut and not willing to experience anything new.  But the crazier part came later in the meal.  Sundaes had accidentally ordered a fairly large meal (more of a dinner size than a lunch size).  He was saying he wouldn't be able to eat all of it, so I told him he should consider getting a to-go box.  He said he could, but he didn't know how he'd keep the food from spoiling.  I told him he could put the box in the refrigerator.  He liked that idea and thanked me for the idea.  At that point I didn't know whether to laugh or feel sorry for him.  Did he really not know you can put leftovers in the fridge?  I tried to decide whether I needed to give him re-heating instructions, but I figured I'd let him try to figure that out for himself.

When I got back from weekend, all the green tomatoes that had been on my plants were all gone.  I don't know if it was Gary the Groundhog or a deer or raccoon that did that destruction, but I was not happy.  By the way, there have been several Gary sightings in the last two weeks or so.  Uncle John better get here soon to help with varmint control.

I went in today to have my blood drawn for my biometrics screening.  Usually this has been a straightforward process.  The nurse uses the rubbing alcohol, puts the needle in, gets a vial or two of blood, and then it's done.  For some reason the nurse today struggled.  First she tried a vein on my right arm.  It seemed like it would be OK initially after the needle poke, but for some reason no blood would flow into the vial.  Then she dug around with the needle trying to get a better position in the vein.  She asked if I drank anything this morning (yes, a glass of water).  No success.  She tried a different vial.  Still nothing.  I informed her by this point that usually they don't have any trouble (hint hint).  Even when I give blood and they use the giant needle, they just poke me and hit the vein right away.  Still no luck in getting blood.  I was like a turnip.  She dug around a little more and definitely hit a nerve at least once.  She said she saw "the flash" and everything, so she didn't know why she wasn't getting any blood.  I was losing my patience and was about to do more than hint by bluntly suggesting she try a different vein when she finally came to the same conclusion.  She tried my other arm with a smaller needle.  Thankfully she got it on the first try this time.  My right arm was sore for several hours after that.  I was kind of expecting to have a giant bruise on the inside of that elbow, but it's just a smaller bruise.  Actually, I have a small bruise on the insides of both elbows from her pokes, which usually doesn't happen.  My nursing readers - is this normal?  And what is "the flash"?  To me it seemed like she wasn't a very good phlebotomist, but maybe there are other mitigating factors that could cause this.  It was 7:50 AM, and she looked a little groggy and/or worse for wear already.

That's enough stories for today.