What a crazy day! Work was the normal routine, an argosy of charts to scan and a monobrow doctor watching over my partner and I as though we were Bonnie and Clyde reincarnated. Seriously, I could care less if a patient has internal hemorrhoids or a history of gastric blockages. I am worried enough about my own distended liver due to criminal amount of alcohol content quaffed over the summer months. I'm sure by now it looks like the Tijuana river after a rainfall.Leaving early, I drove like a bat out of hell to get my son from school and to the doctor for a Polo physical by 2pm. A clean bill of health was reported and he gleefully skipped off to practice. I not-so-gleefully dragged my brogues home to clean a bedroom from a baby powder spill, including behind a dresser. Egads!
Two hours later I was treated to dinner theater when my goofy daughter brought me a plate and gave me a fashion show of her new school britches, purchased by the grands. Her pompadour has now been straightened permanently and she has become intensely fashion conscience. My little diva is growing up. As I wipe a sentimental tear from the corner of my eye, I will sign off for the night. Since I can't turn back the clock, I better get that wrinkle cream out and moisturize. The sun has set on this Tuesday.
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