Let's get physical...

Well, not really. And definately not like the Olivia Newton-John song. Sidenote, was her name really hyphenated or did i just do that because it seemed like the right thing punctuationally to do in this day and age of paternal and maternal conception credit equality?
I am going in for a physical tomorrow. Blood test, turn and cough, the works. Before last year I had not voluntarily been to the doctor in years. I hate them. Not personally and certainly not for their exceptionally clean environs ( i am a neat freak) but simply because they have needles. I hate needles. I know that I inflict more physical abuse to my body on the soccer field or by falling and skinning my knee on the pavement....but needles suck. I know it is all mental. You can barely feel the prick but it is the thought of my precious blood flowing unwillingly out of my body. Like i am being harvested. And I am certain that my specific physiological makeup can not allow even 2 or 3 ounces of blood to leave my fine tuned machine without my whole body turning a pale shade of blue.
Fortunately his office is merely down the hall from my office so it won't be like I have to get in a moving vehicle afterwards and try and drive while fending off the urge to pass out because my blood equilibrium is totally off.

Stay tuned...