Anorexic

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After enduring weeks and weeks of intense and a foot feeling like I am walking on a rock, I finally go see my doctor.  She gives me a complete "overhaul."  She takes blood, schedules x-rays, takes, (ahem, clearing throat) uring samples, among a bunch of other horrible stuff.

There are so many things wrong with me that she makes a list, telling me, "Let's start fixing one problem at a time, beginning at the top of the list.  Sounds good to me.  Needless to say, I have to go back and forth to the doctor's office for the next few months.

Starting with the blood test, she discovers that I'm anemic---no wonder I feel tired all the time.  Okay, that's one thing off the list---I'm anemic---but my foot still really hurts.  That is the next problem we address.

Doc schedules a foot x-ray.  I hobble into the x-ray room and the female technician asks, "What are we going to do today?"

I tell her about my foot and point to where it is the "hurtest."

She takes note.  As she is preparing the table for my x-ray, seeing that my doc has scheduled many more tests, she asks what other things are going on with me.

I say, "Well, we just found out that I am anorexic."

She looks me up and down, see that I could easily stand to lose at least 50 lbs., she remarks, "Um . . . I don't think so."

"How do you know?" feeling insulted that I'm not anorexic.

She hesitates, "Um . . ."  She eyeballs me again, then asks, "Um . . . anorexic?"

A light bulb turns on over my head.  "Did I say "anorexic"?  I meant to say "anemic."

To which she quickly responds, "That makes more sense."

How rude.  I don't know if I am more insulted that I'm not anorexic or that I'm anemic.  Both words start with an A---It's so hard for me to keep track of that kind of stuff (Read is South America in South Africa?" below).

LESSON LEARNED:  Don't talk to x-ray technicians

Is South America in South Africa?

A while ago, a guy from South Africa heard that I was an artist---or pretends to be.  He contacts me and asks if I would be willing to do some artwork for a project that he was working on.  He said that he was hoping to market his project in American and South Africa!

"Woo Hoo," I think to myself.  "I can make lots of money if his product takes off in both places!"  You know---America and South Africa.

"Yes, yes," I exclaim.  "Why don't you come over to my house and we can discuss what kind of artwork you want me to do."

"Great!" he replies.  He sounds almost as excited as I am.

We make the appointment for the next day.  When he arrives, I am full of anticipation and excitement.  "Woo Hoo" I say under my breath, "I'm gonna makes lots of money."

He tells me what he has in mind and says he needs artwork depicting his country---South Africa.  He then asks, "Do you think you can do this?"
 
"Oh, yes!" I enthusiastically exclaim.

His eyes light up.

To confirm, I ask, "So you want me to draw "Azteck'y" symbols and stuff around the borders."

Long, awkward pause.

Puzzled, he looks at me and replies, "No . . . I'm thinking more along the lines of elephants, tigers, lions, etc."

I interrupt, "No, you want "Azteck'y" looking artwork . . . you know, like Azteck'y' drawings.

He says slowly, "Noooooo .. . I would like elephants, tigers and lions . . . you know, South African stuff."

I'm stumped.  I pause for a few moments, then blurt out, "Yah, like Azteck'y' stuff."

"No . . . like animals and stuff."

I can plainly see that we aren't on the same page (or continent as far as he is concerned).
We are both frustrated.  I can't believe that he doesn't want Azteck drawings for his native South Africa and he can't believe that I want to draw Azteck drawings for his native South Africa.

He leaves without signing me up to do his artwork.  "No lots of money for me." I cry.

When hubby gets home, he asks how the meeting went with the guy from South Africa.

I answer, "Can you believe that he didn't want Azteck'y' artwork to depict his homeland of South Africa?"

Hubby shakes his head.  I hear a couple of screws rattle around.  He then asks, "Just where is this guy from---South Africa or South America?"

I answer, "What's the difference?"

He shakes his head again.

"What?" I ask.

He tries to explain the difference---all of it is over my head.

Defending myself, I quip, "But, but, it's all so confusing.  Both those names start with the same letters . . . S and A.  I get 'em mixed up.  Besides, I thought South Africa was in South America . . . or . . . the other way around---I can't remember."

"Obviously."

"It's an easy mistake." Still pleading my case.

"Not really."  Hubby frowns.

Lesson Learned:  Next time, offer to draw Azteck'y' stuff AND safari animals.