Books, Bras, and Blood

Lately my life has been one of naps and cuddles.  I do not regret this - I do, however, regret not being a bit more driven about my residency prep.  Tomorrow is going to be a day of reading, cleaning, and grocery shopping and at some point I'm going to do a massive print out so that I can also read while I'm at work.  We've have bi-polar days: it starts slower than shit and ends with a rush of people so that we are still typically making our quota but we feel very whirl-winded, too.  Speaking of work, after six months of working there, I have finally had two dirty calls.  Same guy.  He calls up and asks in a frat-boy tenor, "Hey, do you guys have any push up bras?"  I tried to be helpful the first time but then he started asking which ones I wore and if they were comfortable and what size my breasts were.  It was very uncomfortable.  When I answered his call yesterday I skipped the pleasantries and said, "It's really best for you to bring your girlfriend in so she can try them on."  And he replied, sounding somewhat miffed, "guess I'll do that.  What time do you close?"  I told him.  But we'll never see him.  Apparently he's called and talked to the third key as well, pulling his same lewd shit.  Next time it happens my manager wants me to hand over the phone and I hope and pray that I'm there that day so I can hear her put him in his place.

In other news, I sold plasma again today.  My needle phobia is still alive and well - about half an hour into the donation is when the panic starts and my shoulders shake.  Today I tried to imagine my body as a machine - like a car - and that I was doing something like an oil change and that the tiny pinch of pain was nothing.  Well, the pain really is nothing.  It's the fear that hurts.  Isn't that strange?  Fear hurts.  Physical pain (to an extent) isn't really pain in my mind - it's all levels of intensity.  Some of those levels feel nice (a good hard flogging and spanking) while other levels (burst ovarian cyst and severe ankle sprain) just plain suck.  But as far as the fear goes, it's harder to get away from it, because it's all in your head.  I realize now why I was able to donate blood.  You have to wait well over a month between donations and that would give me more than enough time to heal emotionally.  But with plasma donation, they allow it twice in a week and eight times in a month.  I think I may have to limit myself to either once a week (which is less money for me since it's the second time in the week that pays well) or I have to do it every other week.  I just don't think I can handle it so often.  I am planning on going Saturday with Hannah... but that depends on if my bruise (which I'm sure I will have after today) is gone and if I can handle it emotionally.  My parents both went in to try and donate but were unable to due to being insulin diabetics.  So much for my plan to have a family outing at the BioLife clinic!