Irony, irony

Readers, don't get spoiled by my daily updates, because I'll be in classes soon. But until then, I don't have much going on.

So today's theme has been, ok, do you guys hate my guts and want me to die? Or am I loved by society? Case in point: I had a horrible experience at the Consulate this morning (see below). I mean, my confidence was brought to the lowest it's been since I got the bite-me letter from Sciences Po.

But I show up at my doctor's appointment earlier, out here in Magnolia, where they had me fill out waiver forms and patients' rights agreements. I had to laugh when I wrote my initials next to the line that read "You have the right to be treated with respect and dignity by our healthcare professionals." I was tempted to write "Oh no no, that's fine, no need. I don't have any more self-esteem to respect. A.L.F."

I was in to obtain a prescription for migraine medicine, for which I had seen a neurologist several months ago but never called back for the meds. He had however written up a patient's report with all the detail, so I brought it in to show the doctor here in Magnolia. She stood up at one point and said she'd be back in a few, she was just going to make a copy. My eye twitched with the painful memory of the last time I was spoken these very words, just hours before at the Consulate. I almost lept out of my chair screaming, "Please don't hurt me!"

Ok the next drastically different and ironic twist in today's prose is that the doctor GAVE ME A HUG at the end of our consultation. She said she'd remembered me from my appointment two years ago and wished me the warmest wishes for my Masters program in Paris.

Again, world, do you hate me or love me??

Finally, I leave the doctor's office and proceed to the pharmacy on the first level and am engaged in a very natural, friendly conversation with the pharmacist, who even complemented me on my earrings. After the verbal abuse from the women at the Consulate, I seriously thought this woman was hitting on me.