I'm feeling kind of sick lately. I hate going to the doctor, but I actually went through with it today. I went to the same doctor I went to when I was a child. This man was actually there in the hospital on the day I was born. And I'm pretty sure his offices have not been remodeled since before I was born. Same weird orange paint. Same ugly, gray wood cabinets.

As for what's wrong with me, I don't really know. It's probably just that my prescriptions need to be updated and dosages re-evaluated and whatnot. I have to have blood work done. I'm susceptible to feeling faint and dizzy whenever I have blood drawn, so that's sure to be a day of fun.

While I was in the waiting room, I finished a rather long story in Lorrie Moore's Birds of America. I generally love Lorrie Moore's stories, but the one I was reading today did nothing for me. I kept flipping back to the end of the story to see how many pages were left. I was actually hoping it would take a long time to be called in to see the doctor, just so that I'd be forced to finish it, since I've left the book just sitting around after starting that story. I have high hopes that the remaining stories will, in fact, not suck, since her writing is usually pretty spectacular.

Labels: books.

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