Illogical as Ever

        Me: Am I fat like Candy Pants?

        silence


        Eric: Wait, what?!  Who's Candy Pants?

        Me: The girl who was jumping on the broken glass [in America's Got Talent.]

        Eric: I don't even- I wasn't even  paying attention.  What did she look like?

        Me:  Her legs were pretty skinny but the rest of her was a little fat.

        Eric: Okay, well then probably not.

     This is how my Tuesday night conversation is shaping up.  Not to mention I have a smoosh-faced kitty sitting on the couch, snoring.  I think she needs a sleep study and a Craniofacial consult.  (P.S. am I the only one besides Mariah Carey who's in love with Nick Cannon?)

You would snore too if your nose was indented into your cranium

        Luckily, the above scenario about whether I'm fatter than some freak show named Candy Pants wasn't a real panic attack.  Bad news:  my new "doctor" is a hippie that doesn't believe in medication for panic attacks.

BLERG!

        It's a longish, boring story about a nurse practitioner I used to see leaving the practice, and me being too lazy to find a provider in another location.  I was having panic attacks about diseases, and I needed to get my crazy out, so I went to *gasp* a Naturopathic Doctor who works in the same building.  I don't even know what this means, so I googled it- obvi.  Then it occurred to me: if you have to look up the definition of a professional license, it's probably your first red flag if you believe in science.  Which I don't.

This is my most scientific looking picture.  I am actually taking a tour in Alaska about glass blowing

        I had a panic attack tonight that I hadn't correctly ordered pre-operative labs for a patient.  (I did do it right - durrrrrr.)  Except, now that I have a fake doctor who only prescribes herbs (not weed, fools) in capsules for remedies, I'm in trouble.  

        Okay fine, I'll tell you.  She gave me this root that is supposed to help you calm down, but it's all natural and shit, hence, avoiding side effects such as drowsiness or weirdness.  I have tried it a few times just to see if it does anything.  I took it the last time I flew to work on the way there, but I couldn't say if it helped or not because it wasn't bumpy, so I wasn't very afraid of death via metal torpedo hurtling to the ground.  I should have taken it on the flight home because it was bumpy, and I did think my last day on Earth could end with death in a tin can like a sardine.  (So far my scientific experiment  regarding the efficacy of said root with one subject and no control group is not off to a great start.)  It was "too turbulent" for beverage service, so I couldn't swallow the damn root gel caps.  As an aside, what is the point of free beer on the plane if they always weasel out of the beverage service on the way home?!

Don't deprive us Alaska Air

        I tried the capsules again as I started to panic about the labs, but I also looked online to make sure I had ordered them right.  So I calmed down, but I am a horrible scientist, and with more than one variable, I was unable to determine cause of decelerated freak out.  Ratsicles.  Foiled again.  

        At least I don't have to worry about whether or not I look like Candy Pants*. Otherwise, I think I would need something stronger than a root capsule.

I need a root capsule here to relax my face (sorry Mary.)

*Please note: Candy Pants is probably a really nice person, and she really isn't fat at all.  It's more that if you call yourself Candy Pants, you need to look like Pamela Anderson or the modern day equivalent.