Jobbers

Today I learned about a special hospital. It seems like a normal hospital. It has an oncology division, eye specialists, internal medicine, etc. etc. etc., it even has a special breast cancer division. Normal, right? Here's the thing--it's an animal hospital.

Really--breast cancer? Today, a coworker said my blog was probably full of stuff about them, and it wasn't, so I thought I'd write some about them. That being said, please understand that I really like my coworkers a lot. I firmly believe that you can love people AND laugh at them though.

I learned about this hospital today when a coworker informed me that she was taking her dog in for a cat scan (oh, the irony). Anyway, there is a spot in her dog's eye which is apparently irritating the dog (though the dog is too nice to scratch its eye around her--such a polite beast), and so they need to do a cat scan to determine if the dog is going to need laser eye surgery or not. Another coworker told me that her cat (whom she takes to a cat therapist) has been diagnosed with a social anxiety disorder called pika or pyka or something (which is also apparently a real disease in humans). This disorder manifests itself through repeated attacks on her person by the aforementioned cat. She has scratches all over her arms, and came to work today with a new band-aid. I suggested what I thought was standard practice for animals that continually attack humans--mainly that she should kill the cat. Needless to say, this didn't go over well. I do hate cats.

I was going to try and type on this blog during lunch, which I was doing, until two coworkers decided they wanted to play matchmaker with me. This ended when, after listing what I was looking for, I added, "Oh, and I don't smoke or drink, and I'm not going to have sex until I'm married..." to which one's immediate response was, "Oh... well... that takes off everyone from my list." The other one agreed that her friends were too wild for me. They then asked me why I lived the "pure" lifestyle. I told them I was Mormon. One then asked me where I was from, and I said Chicago. She seemed surprised that I wasn't from Pennsylvania--where apparently there are lots of Mormons. There aren't. It took me another couple of seconds, but I realized (and so did she) that she was confusing Mormons with the Amish. She then asked what the difference was. Well, among other things, we use electricity.