My Buddy

Well, things of late have been pretty lame at work. The General, or San Francisco General Hospital, is a special place. Not only do the nearby sidewalks smell of urine, yesterday I identified what could only be a piece of human dookie behind a car. This morning, it had a footprint in it. Yuck. My "new" job as the Clinical Chemistry resident is boring as hell. I'm a glorified auditor and presentation bitch. Only 3 weeks to go. The other day, as I walked towards the hospital from my car, I saw a pick-up truck with a wonderfully amusing sight, and, of course, I took a picture of it:


The physical therapist has told me that I have graduated--no more paraffin hand treatments. Sadness! My wrist has progressed very nicely. Last weekend I went out for my first long bike ride--about 40 miles--and loved every second of it.

Last week, I spotted George at his worksite, operating his bulldozer, building the #1 green on his current project. All 4-year-old boys would drool in envy.