Kramerica Industries has me almost permanently at the podiatrist office (henceforth to be known as The Pod.) I am not looking at grotty pictures of feet anymore but I am cleaning up an ENORMOUS mess. Oh, the stacks and stacks of paperwork I've had to go through. The Denali of Paperwork. Today I worked 9 hours with a mere 15 minute break to run to the post office to mail Flat Rachel off. As a Woman of Elegant Leisure, who has actually be enjoying leisure for a few months now, I'm not use to these hours.
But here are two cool things about the Pod.
1.) There's a tv in the lobby that plays educational movies to keep the patients entertained while they wait to have their toes removed, or other such treatment that I don't want to know about. So far I've seen Planet Earth and a film about the railways of Colorado (zzzzzzz) but today we had on Endless Summer and a documentary that was made in the 70s about life on other planets that had Orson Wells pontificating about martians and how HG Wells got all snippy when he heard about the War of the Worlds broadcast. My back is to the tv and I'm buried alive in paperwork so I wasn't exactly paying attention but I heard that voice and thought, "That's Orson Wells!" and I turned around and lo, there he was. All bearded and glorious. I could listen to Orson Wells talk about alien life forms forever.
2.) There is a secret passage that leads to a hidden room. Wait, let me repeat that. A SECRET PASSAGE THAT LEADS TO A HIDDEN ROOM!!!!! I was having a looksie around the place, trying to determine what we could throw away, because, oy, the stuff! and the person taking me around said, all casual like, "Oh, and there's a room back there." "Back where," I asked. "Behind that machine." "That weird cylindrical thing?" "Yes." And then she wanted to move on. Are you kidding me? I ran to the cylindrical thing, which is actually a place for x-ray technicians to stand in that they can slide a door around to protect them, and I slid the door around and there it was...the hidden room! Friends, I don't think I can adequately express to you how excited I am about this. If I had any free time during the day I would be drawing up plans to make it into my Fortress of Solitude. I really can't believe that the ladies working there haven't thought of this yet. There are nothing but boxes inside. Where are the bean bag chairs? Where's the dim lighting? How about the mini fridge stocked with soda? The stacks of US Weekly? The stash of Peanut M&Ms? They are seriously lacking imagination. Which is a bonus for me because I've officially called dibs.