I am literally surviving on doctor's office coffee at this point. No time for lunch, not today, not surprised. I had paused for a moment with my fridge open this morning, wondering, should I bother today? I decided to be optimistic and pack a lunch. Maybe, I'll get to eat it tomorrow. That hope flees as I take a sip of the coffee no amount of creamer can make less bitter and I think of my calendar.
It is now 3:13pm. Our appointment was at 2:30.
I can say one good thing about waiting rooms: the people watching is fantastic. There's an elderly couple in the corner; quietly bickering. The woman threatened to hit her husband over the head with her cane, and that ended the conversation.
There's the cliché emo girl in the corner, hugging her knees with her headphones in. She's staring at me like she knows I'm writing about her.
A man who barely speaks English walks in and I wonder if he can even communicate well enough to tell the doctor how he's feeling. He looks paranoid, too, never making eye contact, but always looking from body to body.
As I watch, I longingly think of my yogurt sitting in the fridge in the conference room. That thought makes time go even slower. Another hour and a half drags on before I'm finally ready to go home.
Tomorrow I only have one waiting room on my schedule. I can't wait for an easy day, but I don't think that'll happen any time soon. At least I can entertain myself somehow along the way.
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