​I can't take it any more.
Logic? Nope.
Common sense? Nope.

Smart folks and simple folks alike have caused me to really beef up my standard instructions for procedures and medical tests. Here's a snapshot of why sometimes I'd like to pull my hair out.

#1) Preterm labor. I have told you very clearly, "Please do not have sex. Please do not put anything in your vagina." My simple instructions could only be clearer if I added in a diagram and an interpretive dance. Why, then, do I see you in the Ob department at 3am, contracting wildly at 26 weeks into your pregnancy as you are post-orgasmic from hours of wild nookie? And now you're somehow mad at ME? Talk to sperm boy over there. Cuddles, not thrusting. Come on, now. Don't make me do the "no-sex interpretive dance". (Actually, anytime I dance, it's pretty much assured no sex will occur within a 10 mile radius. I'm not lithe or seductive. Anyway.)

#2) Clear liquids, part 1. Colonoscopies. Yeah, I get that you don't want a scope, but everyone in your family has colon cancer, so you need the test. You'll thank me after I snip out 10 pre-cancers and save you from having a colostomy and chemotherapy. But until then, please understand me when I tell you that clear liquids do NOT include STEAK, no matter HOW THIN YOU CUT IT. My roto-rooter does not work in solid dooky.

#3) Clear liquids, part 2. Colonoscopies. Yes, I asked you specifically about your alcohol consumption and prayed you told me the truth. Let me now be perfectly obvious: GIN DOES NOT COUNT AS A CLEAR LIQUID. Ok, I get that it is technically CLEAR and you can see through it, and I can see how confusing that must be to you. But for the sake of me giving you IV anesthetic, let me repeat myself. I will NOT give you IV sedation if you smell like booze. If you cannot abstain from alcoholic beverages for 12 hours prior to your procedure, then a colonoscopy will not fix the majority of your health issues and your life will not be foreshortened by a colon problem -- it will be shortened by cirrhosis.

​Don't lie.

​I know you've fantasized about winning.

As I was shaving my stumpy legs in the shower this afternoon, an excellent idea came to me. Don't you get great ideas in the shower? Don't most folks? No? Let's digress for a moment:

Not only do I engage in the BEST arguments in the shower -- I win those arguments every time. But it seems like most plot solutions and fabulous ideas occur in the shower. I also will get a phone call from the hospital about 33% of the time while mid-leg shave, which makes the remainder of the leg shave inherently dissatisfying, but that's another blog topic.

Okay, back to the topic at hand. Hypothetically, let's say I win the lottery, and let's set a round number of $100,000,000. Sure, the government takes 1/2, so now we're at $50,000,000. Still a nice, round number, looks cool on paper, those zeros are awful darn pretty.

First of all, I will stay anonymous. No question about it. If my magic 6 numbers turn me into a walking piggy bank, I want to donate money on my own terms and not wonder why people are being nice to me. So anonymous. Check.

Lots of people quit their jobs and go on vacation for like, years. Well, all right, but I like my day job. It's fulfilling and tough, but at the end of most days I feel like I've made a difference and am satisfied.