So we’ve been off this cleanse for exactly 17 hours and already my partner is headed to the nearest CVS for some (artificially flavored, high fructose corn syrup-laden milk) chocolate.
I, on the other hand, am pretty much remaining on the cleanse diet, with my high-and-mighty nose in the air and all. Life is semi-cruel; all the things my partner can take (without any physiological consequences) or leave just so happen to be all of the things that I love and would shoot at a minivan full of nuns for but can’t have. When it came to deciding what I liked and didn’t like, I had made my decision. In fact, I had my mind made up, but then so did my body, and our conclusions were different.
I feel balanced, though. Hardly any cravings. I’m about as mentally balanced as I can get, which is scary, I know, considering that my gray matter and its cocktail of neurotransmitting chemicals is the fat kid on a see-saw. Balanced, that is, until the printer tray runs out of paper, my office computer won’t open a simple PDF anymore (it needs memory–BAD), I fielded 2 sales calls within 5 minutes, and one of my Whole Foods bulk dried cherries fell on the floor. Then I come unglued and all bets are off.
On the other hand, I do have tonight’s presentation done for our Tuesday night mini health class. Chose a topic, even. Mmmm-hm. And I even wrote it out. Snazzy, huh? I mean, it’s a good thing when I’m NOT surprised to see a patient walk in (to myself: “did Mary have an appointment? I didn’t realize I had another appointment tonight. Oh wait…the office is CLOSED! What’s Mary doing here? Oh Jesus, it’s Tuesday night. She’s here for the health talk. Health talk! Dropped the ball again.”) Yeah. Happened to me 2 weeks in a row. Same patient startled me, even. I’m a horrible backpeddler (“oh yeah! Health talk!” Fake recognition. “I honestly don’t know what the other Dr. S had planned to talk about tonight. Lemme go ask him…..oh hun-ney! Guess what? It’s health class time. What can you pull out of your ass lickety-split?”)
So I have that done. Much to our new patients’ glee, I even have 5 more spankin new pages to add to our 15-page intake packet. Yeah, I know. I tried to pare it down but I swear, none of the information is duplicated, and yes, it’s all important. Crucial, even. Life and death.
Life IS pretty grand when we stop to look around. I mean, there is nothing like an office full of flamenco nuevo, Mexican art and table runners, and ambient natural light everywhere. The tree canopies still hang over the sidestreets, our commute still only takes 7 minutes (on said side streets), I see a freeway once a week or so. Yeah, it’d be nice if Whole Foods would open a location a little closer but let’s face it: the residents of Churchill Apartments aren’t exactly their target market. So we drive.
Now if we can just get the sh!t@ss neighbors on all sides of us to abandon the idea that it’s perfectly acceptable to turn up their subwoofers in an apartment complex. I don’t know how many calls we’ve placed to the answering service this week about noise, but it’s getting fossil-old. It’s all the new people, too–several different entities (individuals, families, or just co-existers) moved in, bringing their gang bang bling with them, suffering delusions of grandeur that they own the place. Ha.
And yet, our office is showing promise. We need a few more patients, yes. We also understand that the economy is crap, we don’t take any insurance yet, and it’s summertime, which brings with it the typical erratic schedules, family reunions, and other vacations. It also doesn’t help that we still hardly know anyone. So in all actuality, I’m surprised we’ve made it this far. The important thing is, word of mouth is crucial, and it’s already starting to happen. Budding and burgeoning, yes, but hey–the sprouts are there. The foundation has been laid. We’re on a roll. New practices are up and down, and we’re no exception. We have a lot going for us. Now if we can just hang on, make it happen, and enjoy the ride.
Now, where IS that dried cherry??