I Cripple Old People

Today I had a q-tip stuck in a new place, and most likely crippled an old Asian woman.

It was a really productive day.

My day started off by being bombarded by the neighbor lady two doors down from me while I was trying to roll my trashcan in. She clearly drinks 3-4 pots of coffee a day. I wanted Popeye's rice and beans and that lady kept me from getting them and I had to settle for Bojangles dirty rice and red beans. She did say I was very tiny for 9 months so, I will let it slide. But just let it be known, Bojangles has nothing on Popeye's beans and rice.

I had my 36 week visit today. At this visit they discuss the standard operating procedure for delivery and what to do if your water breaks, or you are having contractions every five minutes. They answer questions that you may have and then they tell you to take off your pants. Which, in all honesty is fine by me because I don't really like to wear pants anyways. What they fail to mention when they tell you to scoot to the end of the table is...."Hey, I'm gunna take this Q-tip and swab not only your lady bits, but stick it in your bunghole." Why would ANYONE want to become and OBGYN? Like, when do you decide you know I really want to help people. I want to be a doctor, and I want deal with women in their worst state ever. Oh, and I want to peer INSIDE of them. What logical reason could you really have for ever wanting to become an OBGYN?!? You like babies? Welllllll clearly you like lady bits more, because if I were to get out a pie chart the amount of time you spend working with babies would not even come close to the amount of time you spend working with vaginas. Other jobs that I think would be terrible include proctologist, and the guy that sucks the poop out of port-o-potties. At least the guy that sucks up poop didn't spend 8 years in school most likely creating massive school loans to do his job. In essence poop sucker probably has a better debt to income ratio.

After waiting for my meds for 2 hours, I ventured off to the Commissary to get groceries...On a payday. I ALWAYS forget. Let me explain a few things to those who are not military. The commissary provides military personnel and their families with everything that off base stores have and it's more often than not cheaper. It is also tax free. They get you with their weird penny rounding thing, and surcharges of randomness that are just miraculously added to your bill upon paying. They also have baggers. The baggers only work off of tips. There are three types of commissary baggers. The first is the teenager. Looking to make some extra cash. I get it. The second type is the spouse that is some sort of social misfit that can't or won't find a regular job. They probably don't like the idea of random drug testing if you catch my drift. The third type is the worst and hardest to wrap my brain around. The old person. The bagger I had today was probably in her 80's. Call me old fashioned, but I don't like it when old people do work for me. I might be pregnant, but I don't have two fake hips and medic alert button on my chest either.

The baggers guilt you into letting them take your stuff to your car for you. I am too nice to say I will bag my own and push my own cart. It's irritating though. Pretty sure I can put my own toilet paper in my trunk but by all means go ahead. So, I get finished paying and the little old Asian lady starts pushing the cart out behind me. Except, when I look back she's still by the register. She can't actually lift her feet up so she's shuffle stepping it and using the cart as a wheeled walker. I would slow down more and more...A guy actually walked beside me and looked back and said "uhhhh I think your bagger is broken." I look back and see her stopped and not able to get enough momentum to keep pushing the cart. I walk back to her and tell her I will push. She tries to say in some form of English that I am pregnant and shouldn't do such things. So, I tell her which car is mine and I start walking behind her in case she tips backward when her heart gives out. We get to my car after 2 hours and I begin to help her unload my cart. Some guy shows up and pushes me out of the way and helps her to put things in the trunk. They then stand there and are trying to make small talk after I give her her tip. I want to leave. I don't want to chat. So I try to say goodbye and begin to close my trunk. She leans back a bit and the full force of the trunk lands on the top of her shoulder. She winces in pain and says, "Ohhhhhh! My shudder!"

I beat up old people.

This was probably her way of paying for her husband's hospice care, and I essentially put her in the bed next to him.

In conclusion, I am an ass hole.