Stayed home sick, slept most of the day, tended work e-mail over VPN when awake. Went to the doctor around noon, which of course means went to the “nurse practitioner.” Not that I have anything against RNs, but why even call it a doctor’s office if you can never see the dang doctor? In the imagined past that lives in my head, I remember when doctors used to come over to your house with their little black bags. You had a family doctor, he knew your history, knew your family, you could go see him if something wasn’t right. Nowadays, I have no doctor. Sure, there’s a name on my insurance card, but I’ve never even met the guy. Five years and I’ve only ever seen different RNs. They get the job done I suppose, but it seems like the notion of the “family doctor” may be dead. Anyway, I got a standard antibiotic so it went pretty much as I’d expected.
What is it with the doctor’s office and waiting? I got there, I’m the sole guy in there, and I’m still left sitting in the lobby reading some article about Wal Mart’s risky gamble in expansion into China. Fifteen minutes later, I’m taken back, weighed, and transfered to a little room where I’m once again waiting – this time for twenty minutes. I know no one else is in the whole place, when they walked me back to my room I passed the open doors of empty rooms, saw scrub-wearing lackeys eating lunch. It was just me and an office full of people who were making me wait. I hate that, bugs me.
I’m way up in the double-digits on the times I’ve spun Neon Bible now, and I must say it’s held up well. I was a bit worried that the here-and-there style leaks may have ruined the whole “flow” of the album, but not so. It’s good, really good, can’t wait to get an proper rip (the full leak was still a dodgy 160Kbps max) and eventually the real disc. Sharaun and I agreed we’ll likely break our concert moratorium when the ‘Fire comes to San Francisco. Yeah. Get a babysitter, convene the crew, and go see them live in the city. Damn, I’m old.