To be alone

Yesterday I had to have cosmetic surgery. This is not to be confused with plastic surgery, in which I would have gotten new boobs, nose, or even butt implants. The nature of my visit was not uncommon, but I noticed several people in the waiting room who were twice and triple my age which made me think they were not there for the same reason I was. After waiting a pleasant hour, I was finally called back for the pre-surgery questions, only to be sent back to the waiting room since the doctor was running late.

This gave me ample time to catch up on my reading: Golf Digest, Highlights, or Fishing. Ooooh, what's a girl to choose? I casually look over to the other twenty-something across the room and notice she is hording the good magazines (People, Glamour, OK!). I really could care less if they are months, if not years old, but the fact that I'm being subjected to Golf or CNN on mute is absolutely killing me. She has a posh trenchcoat and really cute boots which prompts me to look at my own shoes, winter knockoff Uggs that I can't bare to stop wearing since they are so comfortable. I am immediately jealous of her put together look and that makes me want her magazines even more. Her name gets called and I lean into the hallway to hear that her doctor is running behind so she can either wait or reschedule. In the meantime, I casually (more like abruptly) walk to her abandoned chair and take the magazines. Glory is mine for the taking. She comes back in the room, clueless to my theft, and decides on a Highlights magazine. In my head I'm hoping all the "find the hidden object on the page" objects are already circled. Serves you right for hording. Hypocritical I know, but it's like when someone is driving like a complete jackass and you hope there's a cop waiting for them just up the road...

I finally get to go in for my surgery and my doctor jokes how moms tell her all the time how they don't mind waiting because it's the only chance they get for themselves. I give her a look that shows I disagree (more like horrified) and am hoping it is more of an ambiguous look rather than the gaping mouth open look. Now that I think back to yesterday, I should have smiled and agreed because I definitely agree. I can think of nothing else in life that I would want to do sans baby. Forget a spa, nap, book, bar, concert, or even just being home alone. I choose to spend my alone time reading/stealing magazines and waiting in doctor's offices for hours on end. That my friends, is what dreams are made of...

Needless to say, the surgery was a success. With a few stitches, I am now sans mole.