Coffee Log, Year 2, Day 238


Coffee:  Maxwell House Master Blend, Office Coffee

I got a flu shot at the pharmacy. The technician wore a white coat and had glasses. He didn’t talk much, even when I tried to talk to him. He came out from around the counter and led me to an off-room. It was cold in the room and there were too many chairs. I sat, I took my dress shirt off (this was right after work). Without any kind of count-down, he stuck me. It made me think about opera, or daytime television, any kind of exaggerated display of human melancholy that’s always less dramatic when you peek inside.

And that was Wednesday. A prick, a push, dead viruses in egg whites. Not bad, and on the way to being better.

Currently Reading: Queen, Suzanne Crain Miller

Support Relief for Family Suffering at the Border  – RAICES DONATION CAMPAIGN

The most exquisite pleasure in the practice of medicine comes from nudging a layman in the direction of terror, then bringing him back to safety again.

Kurt Vonnegut, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater

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