OMG! It's come to this! A realization that I'm growing into a Complaining Grouch! Gee-Whiz! I've also grown into An Impatient Asshole over the last ten years. I have no patience for the most mundane things and complain about it…such as filling-out paperwork at any doctor's office or any facility at all. I am tired of writing the same information on different forms over and over. I thought I had it it taken care of when I finally imploded and wrote a full medical history, current meds, etc., on a paper I copied and now take to every new doctor's office…saying, "Just attach this to your file papers, I'll sign what I have to sign, but this is how and what you're getting from me." Period. So far so good. I wish all doctors and medical institutes would either send their forms to patients in advance so that all is dealt with prior to the appointment., or encourage people to bring a medical history paper to simply staple to their own forms. Then there would be no need to sit even longer in The Waiting Room, balancing a clipboard on one's lap while writing every single personal thing one can imagine on a paper Who-Knows-Who will see. Anyhow, I came to the astonishing moment of clarity over how I've changed over the years when I went to a new place for a Special Facial yesterday. I wasn't there for any medical procedures…just a mild Dermabrasion-like procedure and a few pounds of cream on my face under steam. Yet, once in the door, I was handed 11 pages of paperwork to read and fill out. I understand the Legal aspects to what doctors, clinicians and so on must provide to the patients. However, I asked why I had to answer so many questions. In the Waiting Area, I openly groused about each new page I had to fill out – surprised by the volume of info they needed just to clean my face. I kept bitching with each turn of a new page. I sounded like an Old Lady Sitting On Nails. Well, to some I may be "Old", but I'm not an "Old Lady" and I better stop this trend toward sounding like one. Have I really become my mother? Is it true? We all eventually become our Mothers? Dear God! Good grief! Heaven forbid! Horrors! Wake me from this nightmare of unpleasant Personality Traits! My mother is good person at heart. However, Complaining Is Her Pastime and she doesn't realize it. I don't mind complaining and bitching on a blog. This blog is meant precisely for serious zinging against people and things, as well as tongue-in-cheek ranting's at times, along with the benign silliness of satire with music and art to lead the way. Nevertheless, out in The Real World it might behoove me to shut my mouth and keep my remarks of frustration to myself, and if I don't want to fill out a lot of papers, then quietly go to the Front Desk and gently inform "them" that I have provided all I wish to provide of my info and if they need/want more, I'll happily send my Medical History Paper to them and be done with it. I sorta did that yesterday, but I did natter-on aloud to my friend who was also getting a facial, long and loud enough for her to politely tell me to shut up. That was a Big Hint that the road I've been traversing is turning me into the Bitch I once named myself while on-air in the "Old Days" of creative radio when I could be "The Screaming Queen Bitch" and not have the FCC on my tail. Now I'm just A Complaining Common Bitch. Tsk tsk.
Looks like I have more self-work to do. Until then, G-Dammit, I'm hungry. But I don't like what choices I have in the house… Do I have to go out and buy something? What a drag. I have to get dressed? Put on lipstick? Sigh. Life is so cruel.
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