Friday, June 17, 2011

It doesn't take an MD to see that you're OPENLY judging me...


When possible, I've started checking Dr. As a prefix for my mail. Do you know how rewarding it is to receive mail to Dr. Rachael M Weaver? ESPECIALLY when your really attractive mailbox neighbor is kind of curiously eyeballing your... Wait, okay, wow, that’s actually strange. WHY are you looking at my mail?

Do I not LOOK like I could be a doctor? Why, cause I’m not wearing scrubs? Well maybe I’m not a resident or a dentist! Huh? What about that? Maybe I wear business casual clothes only to don a white coat and stethogra--scope(?) when I walk into the office of my very OWN private practice?! That's fine I don't even have to be an MD. How insultingly presumptuous do you plan on being over a piece of my mail which so obviously states that I have a doctorate? Truth, maybe I'm not old enough to have graduated medical school, but that doesn't mean I don't have some totally valid doctorate in something deliciously absurd, like, Poultry or Epic Winning. How about that, Debra McDoubterson?!

Alright, well, as fleetingly “attractive” as I thought you WERE, the fact that you’re so openly judging me and completely violating my privacy at the mailbox is a rather clear indication that you’re definitely not in THIS doctor’s league, okay? And no, the fact that I'm holding a copy of Maxim magazine is definitely NOT why you're scrutinizing me. Cause, yeah hate to break it to you, but according to them (them being Maxim address people. Very respectable. Don't argue.) I am, in fact, a doctor. Gah, the nerve of some people.


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