Monday, March 10, 2008

Wishful Thinking

In my mind's eye, I am way cooler than in reality.  My clothes hang perfectly.  That weird bobbing sensation on the top of my head is not a piece of hair sticking up because it has been defying all laws of follicular gravity for two weeks now.  The giant zit just to the left of my nose that I can actually see if I look down at just the right angle is not visible to anyone at all.  My socks match and my repartee is witty.  I am a rock star.  Heads turn when I walk by and in the good kind of way, not the "Dear God in heaven what is that thing waving from the top of her head???" kind of way.

I stroll through the day believing this because if I actually took the time to really process the truth of the matter I would need to take to my bed for a week.

For example, today the school nurse stopped by to borrow a tissue.  That sounds more ominous than it actually is.   Our school nurse is a very prepared sort of woman and her office is really very well stocked.  She does not run out of tissues.  But her office is on the first floor and she was on the second floor across from my classroom doing a blood test thing and she forgot the gauze.  I am happy to provide tissues in these sorts of situations.  She's handed me more than a few over the years.  

Being a normal, well-socialized sort of gal, I greeted the nurse.  This is what one does in these sorts of situations.  I didn't linger over the greeting because there was a diabetic in the next room who needed a tissue.  I am also keenly aware of when to chat and when it would be bad for diabetics.  But when she came back to thank me for the tissue, I saw that she might be open to a little more of the banter.  In my highly self-edited version of this conversation, it went something like this:

Well, greetings and salutations Mrs. Nurse!  So nice to see you on this fine, fine day! Of course we are all reeling just a bit from the recent need to set the clocks ahead in recognition of Daylight Savings Time, but I like to think that we are recovering nicely from the shock.  I do hope that you are adjusting well today.  Clearly you are managing better than the rest of us as evidenced by your masterful handling of that situation I had earlier today when the kid needed the ibuprofen.  That was inspiring!  You are a credit to your profession, Mrs. Nurse.  A true credit.  Thank you for being YOU!  Sharing a tissue with you in your hour of need is the very least I can do...the least, I say!

She was, of course, impressed by my deft use of language and flattered to no end by my having noted her assistance with the pain killers.  I was a hero.  And I like it that way.

Of course this is not how things went.  Not even close.  But denial is a beautiful thing and it allows me to completely ignore my possibly having said something more along the lines of:

Oh hey, Nurse.  What's that?  The tissue?  Yeah...whatever.  My tissues are your tissues and all that.  Look, you're a medical professional.  Maybe you can clear this up.  Can a person actually die from not knowing what time it is?  You know...if they get all confused because of stupid Daylight Savings Time?  'Cuz I'm pretty sure this is killing me.  Last week, I was just getting used to leaving the house for work in broad daylight and being able to take the trash to the dumpster on the way out and now it's all dark again and I had to take out the trash this morning to The Dumpster Where The Zombies Lurk and this just can't be good for a person!  Seriously.  These are the "hand-grabbing when you put the bag into the dumpster" kind of zombies.  I'm a wreck!   What is your medical opinion on this?  Take your time.  It's a big question.  What do you think?  

I do not wish to think of myself as a person who says this kind of thing to random people who come into my classroom to borrow a tissue.  I don't care for having to avoid all eye contact with the school nurse for the next two weeks, especially since it is flu season and I am a mild hypochondriac.  I prefer the first scenario.  And this is how I am going to believe the whole scene played itself out.

I am also going to keep spinning the pretty Shetland/silk blend I started last night.  There might be enough there for a pair of nice hand warmers or something.  That would be a lovely way to use such wonderful yarn.

And I'm probably going to need a gift for the nurse anyway.  I'm running low on tissues.

SA

 

15 comments:

trek said...

As a former medical professional type, I can assure you that it is indeed possible to suffer horrific consequences due to the Congressional messing with the space-time continuum.

I am.

So's the Neatnik.

Mel said...

Why don't you just fling the trash bag from halfway across the parking lot? It's what any sane, zombie-fearing person would do, after all. I mean, if they're lurking, you may as well kiss good citizenship goodbye, anyway, because hello, Apocalypse!

For me, DST meant a work shift that was an hour shorter, which is particularly good considering I worked the hour-longer shift back in the fall. I still think we need to be in Atlantic time zone. Then we could just kiss DST goodbye forever.

MathIsBeauty said...

I think I am suffering from Time Change Lag - kinda like jet lag except it lasts longer.
Laurie

Beth said...

I always think I look better than I really do. It's usually a shock when I see my reflection. :)

Lorraine said...

LOL - this time it was apple/cherry/berry juice spurting out my nose.

kmkat said...

Hey, I think zombies are afraid of tissues. At least that's what my nurse told me last time I asked, right before she gave me my medication and tightened the straps.

Anonymous said...

Fear Not! As a charter and dues paying member of ZAP (Zombies As Parents) I can assure you that we ZombiesAP do not think of time as linear – but simply as Time/Now. Thus you can (thanks to DST) safely take out your trash, or do anything you choose and be an hour ahead of any predator zombie who may be lurking about. In addition, chapter two, sub section 1, paragraph A (b2) of the ZAP Charter clearly indicates that no member may contact/prey upon/and or approach any individual who is currently employed by any school district AND has a sense of humor. These individuals are considered to be endangered, and at all costs must be protected. Their endangered status during non-DST is currently under consideration, but with all things considered will probably assume current DST status. It is my fervent hope, that at some point, we will all reach a communicative conclusion. Cordially, Jane

Karen said...

Yeah the time things has done us in too. I feel like I'm losing an hours sleep each night not just once. That can't be good.

Anne said...

Frankly, if a political candidate wanted my vote, they could just stump for getting rid of this whole stupid switch forward/back thing. I don't care about much else at this point except that it goes away.

Mia said...

Hmmmm.. maybe this whole time issue could explain why I fell asleep on the touch at 5:30 pm and didn't wake up until 11:30 pm!!!

The Kelly Green Rogue said...

oooh I can't wait to see the spinning!

knitseashore said...

How can we tell if a ombie is a zombie, or if it's just a person suffering from DST? I don't think I look like one, but I sure feel like one this week. Can you share identifying marks, etc, for us to look out for, particularly when visiting the trash receptacles in the dark?

Cursing Mama said...

I am not a doctor, and I do not play one on tv; but I do believe that you may suffer significant medical issues with the inexplicable loss of an hour.

April said...

Well at least I didn't set my clocks ahead twice like I did when I set them back twice last Fall. Ah yes, nothing like rolling into work an hour after everyone else has gotten there.

knottykitty said...

I'm a one-handed nurse. The other hand was lost to one of those trash zombies you mentioned when they pulled it off a couple of days ago. Wouldn't have happened if I weren't so sleepy from the **#&@ daylight savings time. Spring forward my @%&!!

Does that answer your question? ;)