Bumped into Mr. T, one of the architects, in the breakroom. He's been on a "work imbalance" schedule the last few weeks, meaning he's not laid off, but he's only allowed to work a couple days a week.
"How are you feeling?" he said.
"Pretty good, actually."
"So what was it you had? You had diabetes, wasn't it?"
"Yea. I have no pancreas."
"So you have this for the rest of your life, right?"
"Yup. No pancreas."
"Oh, yea, you know, this woman who runs marathons with me wife, she got it. She has this little pump thing with her all the time."
"An insulin pump, yea."
"Yea, and she's out there running marathons. So it's manageable, I guess."
"Yea," I said, "it's manageable. It's just a pain in the ass."
Monday, August 14, 2006
Pain in the Ass
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comments so far. Got something to say?
"it's manageable. It's just a pain in the ass."
Words to live by there. I don't think life ever quits being a pain the ass, but with some luck it becomes an ever more enjoyable one.
Ever thought of writing philosophy instead?
I could see you in a dim club taking the stage. A single light shines down on you as you begin reading to a hushed crowd. Deep meanings and desires flow forth over the people and then a moment of silence.
*click click click*
The audience makes it's aproval known as you step off the stage.
It could happen.
Post a Comment