Being on maintenance medication means regular trips to the doctor to get bloodwork done. It's quite the annoyance, not because I mind getting stuck with the needle by someone who literally has no medical training, but because I hate being late for work.

Last time I did this I met up with a member of Oprah's army who, I'm quite sure, would have stabbed James Frey on the spot for sullying Oprah's good book recommending name. This is the woman who gave me the memorable quote, "You shouldn't make Oprah mad, she's very powerful."

This time, arriving at 8:30 like I always do, I'm told that she doesn't get in until 9, and that's it's always been that way. Lies. And that she leaves at 5, too, guaranteeing that I have to miss a good chunk of my work day to get this done. When she finally calls me in I sit in the chair in silence (no small talk or anything from this one) while she stares at the computer. Wiggles the mouse. Straightens the monitor. Looks confused. Presses the space bar.

Meanwhile I'm waiting. And waiting. And she's doing her little thing. Space bar. Mouse. Monitor. Repeat.

After maybe 3 minutes of this she wheels her chair out the door and shouts down the hall, "Does Terry turn this off before she goes home at night?"

Three people, including my primary care physician whom I know to be a kindred geek, appear. Must be a slow morning. My doctor reaches under the desk and TURNS THE COMPUTER ON.

I've been waiting here now for several minutes for the privilege of getting blood drawn from my body by someone who DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO TELL IF A COMPUTER IS TURNED ON.
Wouldn't you think that that's a pre-requisite before jamming needles into people? I bet they didn't check to see if she knew how to tie her shoes before she got her vampire certificate, because that's just one of those things that every three year old should know how to do. You know, like TURNING THE COMPUTER ON.