The List

So here I am, stuck at the office working on tomorrows pre and post presentation; the list of patients is as always daunting, and I'm limping through it one name at a time.

I remember the last time around when I was rushing through them without heed or care; the secretary, bless her, had told me I was presenting first thing the very next morning. And all I could think about was that I had to get it out of the way quick so that I could go shopping with her, I don't know why I didn't give her a heads up, except that I was convinced she'd be dead to the world as usual. Just tried to work as quickly as I could and then faster still, and maybe there would still be time to go... please... because I really wanted to.

Isn't that bizarre, I was excited about taking the girlfriend shopping. Me. Shopophobe.

But there was something about shopping with her that I liked; I'm not sure I can put a finger on it; holding hands as we walked, with her bright eyed like a squirrel foraging for... clothes. Holding up things that were blah, and once in a while finding something really special that looked spectacular on her... and the little moments of happiness we shared then. Perhaps it was just the spending time with her, and getting to watch her actions and reactions and feeling happy to be around her.

But by the time I finished she disagreed with me that we could still make it to the shops in time, and we were both bitterly disappointed.

So now I have all the time in the world to plow through this neverending list, and I'm not going to be done by eight, and there's just... nothing. In my way.