I Ought To Have My Head Examined
Or so the Army thinks, anyway.
A couple weeks ago, I reported to the Ft. Belvoir Dental Clinic's walk-in hours for my annual checkup (you can't make an appointment, since that would actually be efficient), and after waiting an hour and still not being called, I grabbed my records and left in a huff (or a minute and a huff). But after realizing that in order to be seen at the Pentagon, I would have had to make a separate trip just to get my records in-processed, I figured the half-hour there and back x3 wasn't worth the gas, so I tried again yesterday, this time bringing a book to brew my stew. So to speak. ("Manhunt", the story of the search for Lincoln's killer, a great, quick read after the 800+ pages of a veritable prequel, "Team of Rivals", about Lincoln's life and those of some of his cabinet members.)
After only 35 minutes, I was taken back for x-rays, and rather than biting down on the cardboard film, I had to stand in the middle of this contraption while a machine span around my head to get a 180-degree x-ray view of my choppers. Pretty cool. But after another 30-minute wait out front, then fifteen in the chair before the doctor came in, the exam took all of 132 seconds. And since performing my annual cleaning right then and there would have made, I don't know, "sense", they told me to go make an appointment for that. I eat peanut butter and oreos in defiance of their scheduling.
On the home front, we are officially deckless. A project we were thinking about last summer, and started actively pursuing in November, the old rickety crappity unsafe for Ryanity deck has been demolished to make room.
A sunroom, in particular.
And a deck.
And a patio.
With a hot tub.
Pictures to follow.
Actually, the old one hasn't been completely torn down yet, as Dover learned when he went running up the three front stairs to be transformed into Underdog albeit temporarily as he flew the two feet back down to the ground through from whence he thought the deck floor was still yea verily.
It apparently cracked the heck out of up my wife of whom.
A couple weeks ago, I reported to the Ft. Belvoir Dental Clinic's walk-in hours for my annual checkup (you can't make an appointment, since that would actually be efficient), and after waiting an hour and still not being called, I grabbed my records and left in a huff (or a minute and a huff). But after realizing that in order to be seen at the Pentagon, I would have had to make a separate trip just to get my records in-processed, I figured the half-hour there and back x3 wasn't worth the gas, so I tried again yesterday, this time bringing a book to brew my stew. So to speak. ("Manhunt", the story of the search for Lincoln's killer, a great, quick read after the 800+ pages of a veritable prequel, "Team of Rivals", about Lincoln's life and those of some of his cabinet members.)
After only 35 minutes, I was taken back for x-rays, and rather than biting down on the cardboard film, I had to stand in the middle of this contraption while a machine span around my head to get a 180-degree x-ray view of my choppers. Pretty cool. But after another 30-minute wait out front, then fifteen in the chair before the doctor came in, the exam took all of 132 seconds. And since performing my annual cleaning right then and there would have made, I don't know, "sense", they told me to go make an appointment for that. I eat peanut butter and oreos in defiance of their scheduling.
On the home front, we are officially deckless. A project we were thinking about last summer, and started actively pursuing in November, the old rickety crappity unsafe for Ryanity deck has been demolished to make room.
A sunroom, in particular.
And a deck.
And a patio.
With a hot tub.
Pictures to follow.
Actually, the old one hasn't been completely torn down yet, as Dover learned when he went running up the three front stairs to be transformed into Underdog albeit temporarily as he flew the two feet back down to the ground through from whence he thought the deck floor was still yea verily.
It apparently cracked the heck out of up my wife of whom.
"...WHAT the...?"
posted by Dan at 10:28 AM
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