The Mad Dash for Depo

Based on the way I go running into the store with frazzled 1975 Ogilvie Home Perm hair, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Kroger people called the local homeless shelter on my behalf. Today was no different.  We need to go back to last week so I can explain.

So, I have been getting the Depo shot for a few years now.  No, I did not gain weight or become crazy.  I was already chubby and irritable before starting Depo. The only side effect I have had is that I get cranky and bloated when I am due for the next shot.  Last week was week 11 and I have to get them every 12 weeks.  So, since I felt all PMSy, I called in my refill on Friday, planning to get my shot at the clinic in Kroger on Monday morning.  So, this morning, when I woke up with sore boobs and a big desire to hit people, I knew I had better get my ass over to get my shot.

I recently found out that the clinic has a sign-in ahead of time function on the website.  I had never used it so I ASSUMED (bad idea) that I could choose a time.  Nope. I entered my information and the computer told me to be there in 45 minutes.


I was still in my robe and drinking coffee.  I was about to hop on Facebook and say hi to all of you.  Instead, I was in a mad dash.  I work from home.  I am not used to being in a hurry.

I gulped down half of my coffee so I could drive with both eyes opened.  Then, I banged on my son’s door to remind him he had school today.  He yelled that he had his alarm set.

Next, I ran to my room and pulled proper undergarments from my drawers, remembering that normal people wear bras in public.  Well, mostly just women wear bras, but some men really do need them, too.  I picked up a pair of new short athletic socks, thinking I would wear sneakers.

Then, I ran to my closet and picked out jeans, an overly washed black t-shirt and a sweater that was too nice to be worn with an overly washed t-shirt.  I looked down at my sneakers and remembered how Clinton on What Not To Wear said that only Jerry Seinfeld should wear sneakers with jeans.  So, I slipped on my best manly black loafers over my white athletic socks.  I was ready to be a tourist in Florida with this look.

Then, I looked in the mirror.  Oh, my hair!  Crap! I had worn my hair curly yesterday, and as per protocol, it looked like birds had nested on my head as I slept. So, I did what you should never do with curly hair, I ran a comb through it.  Now, it was frizzy.  I didn’t have time to do anything about that, so I slapped a headband on, smeared some lip gloss on my lips and grabbed my purse and coat.

As I was backing out of the driveway, I saw the school bus go by.  I knew what that meant.  I proceeded slowly down the street and then stopped behind the bus.  I waited impatiently for the kids to get on the bus.  They did, and I thought all was well when I realized the mom, wearing flip-flops and a winter coat was standing on the bus step chatting with the driver.

FORFUCKSSAKE!!!  They chatted for approximately five years, or two minutes in real time.  I considered jumping out of my car and punching both of them while yelling, “My boobs hurt and I need my shot!” When the mom finally walked her ass up to her front door, she turned around and looked at me.  I gave her my best, “you just narrowly avoided an ass beating” look.

I screeched into the Kroger parking lot and parked by the pharmacy.  I went jogging in the door with 10 minutes to spare.  I had to stop at the pharmacy to get the Depo before heading to the clinic nextdoor to get the shot.  Lucky for me, there was no line at the pharmacy.  I had the young pharmacist laughing about my appointment making disaster.  He probably wanted to call the Vidal Sassoon hotline about my hair.

The good news is when I got to the clinic I was right on time. I did not have to wait with all of the people who looked like they had the flu.  The nurse took me right back and gave me a shot.  He was very calm and I was prattling away about my PMS symptoms and the damn school bus etc.  He probably called security and the fashion police as soon as I walked out the door.

And how is your Monday going?

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