Fuck.Okay, I left my house with ample time to get lost in search of the endocrinologist. I drove around and couldn't find it and then found a phone in a gas station where these two Iranian men are talking with such heavy accents that I couldn't understand any words but "Help" and "Phone." Yeah, I'm cultured. It was four o'clock, meaning I was a half hour late, and I called the office. The woman told me that I had to reschedule. So there I am, in the middle of a gas station 20 miles away from home with these two clerks watching me cry over the secretary telling me that I have to wait another fucking month to figure out what the hell is going on with my breasts. I was not happy. Then the girl starts laughing and I hang up on her after confirming my appointment for JUNE 11TH!
Damn her. Damn the doctor. Damn the 20 miles worth of gas I wasted in driving out there.
In better news, tomorrow night's the prom. I'll be taking a limo with Sara, Sat, Eric, Matt, Mike and Parvathy. Sort of a last minute decision to take a limo with the group but here I am. That gets me out of going to some horrible afterparty where all the *good* people from school get drunk/high and pretend that it was their first time. Ha. I *so* wish that I could take Adrien...and I could, if he was about 6 years younger.
