It’s a zedonk! A zebra-donkey hybrid.
Pretty sure I want one.
I received a voicemail today informing me that my doctor’s appointment this afternoon needed to be cancelled due to an emergency, and asked if I could please call back to reschedule.
First of all, let me just say that voicemails and I do not mix. We are not friends. I hurriedly memorized the number they gave me to call, deleted the message and called them back.
Me: “Hi, I received a voicemail from your office asking me to call back and reschedule my appointment from this afternoon?”
Receptionist: “Oh, I wasn’t the one who called you, do you know who left the message?”
Me: Shoot. “No I don’t remember… sorry.”
Receptionist: “That’s ok, what’s your doctor’s name?”
Let me explain. My primary doc isn’t at the clinic anymore so they scheduled me with a different one. Did I write the name down? No.
Me: “Actually, no… my primary doctor left the clinic so I was scheduled with a different one but I don’t remember her name… sorry.”
Then Ms. Receptionist got huffy.
Receptionist: “Well I’m going to have to ask you to go back and listen to that voicemail and call back when you have more information.”
Me: Um, rude much? “Well, my appointment was supposed to be at 4:40 today, is there no other way to look it up?” You called ME, people!
The story ends with them figuring it out and rescheduling me. But then I started thinking about all the times people call into my office saying they saw one of our real estate signs in Auburn, or wait maybe it was Kent? I guess it could’ve been Auburn though? Then we go through the rigmarole of me asking them if they saw an agent name on the sign (“There was no name!”) or a more precise location (“Well how many signs do you have??”), to which my responses would be that I MAKE these signs so I know they all have agent names on them, and that we have over a hundred properties which makes the sign count at least 200.
… ok, so I don’t really respond that way. But I think it. Anywho, I just wanted to say that I identify with today’s receptionist and can sympathize with how annoying it must be to deal with people who can’t hang onto the simplest of information, myself included.
To which I respond, maybe next time they could just send me an e-mail? Then we could all have the information in front of us? Send voicemails to the grave, I say!
Isn’t it funny how your tastes and preferences change from when you were a kid?
Then: I absolutely couldn’t stand tights. If I had to wear hosiery then I wanted it to be sheer – opaque was like a bad word to me. Methinks I just wanted to grow up too fast. :)
Now: Tights are all I wear through winter! Well, that sounds bad. But I LOVE them and think they’re the answer to any outfit. I now balk at sheer hosiery and refuse to wear it, inspiring the ever-ongoing argument in my office (between the women, that is) of nylons vs. bare legs. Though I have heard that some offices require nylons… isn’t that strange? I might revolt. I could also say this about turtlenecks in that I was adamantly against them as a child but now think they are genius.
Then: Our Whole Foods outings as kids usually included an 8 oz. cup of carrot juice preceded by a shot of wheatgrass juice. I persistently fought against this infusion of antioxidants as only children do (“I don’t like it! It’s gross!”).
Now: Carrot juice tastes like candy! Ok that might be going too far but I think it’s tasty. On the other hand, I still refuse to touch wheatgrass juice. Superfood or not, it still tastes awful. In other news, I accompanied Mark to his first visit to Whole Foods a couple months ago. When he said he’d never been there before, I said, “Really?! I feel like I was raised in one!” Turns out they have quite the microbrew selection, too! I never picked up on that as a kid. :)
I just finished Ree Drummond’s book “The Pioneer Woman: Black Heels to Tractor Wheels” and it was HILARIOUS. I totally recommend it to all those women out there looking for a funny and sentimental read. Some notes: