Just a Small Town Girl, Livin' in a Lonely World

It doesn't take a genius to understand that my un-ringing phone, combined with a Robitussin jones and the 36 degree temperature in which I rode my bike to work this morning have made me feel a little less than plucky today. What if I told you that I have cramps, too?
I am leaving early today so that I can pedal over to Urgent Care, wait for 3.7 hours, and score a real prescription cough medicine because this Robitussin burn is not for me.
I almost ordered some of the good stuff from the internet today but then I realized that would be a mistake for a number of reasons, as listed here:
1. It's illegal.
2. It's $123.78. Urgent Care + Meds is $35.
3. The mysterious "They" will have my IP address for the next 8 years and will harrass me forever.
4. I cannot give life to every, single idea that I have. It's just not practical.

So, around 4 today, I'm going to put on my Packers sock hat, my bike helmet, my heavy sweatshirt, and ride over to Urgent Care where I will be frank with them regarding my needs (narcotic cough relief for my aching throat and chest). One listen to the racking rot that is my lungs and I'm quite certain they'll agree. I sound like an old lady who has smoked for 56 years and I haven't smoked for a couple of years.

I'm doing this birthday project today and it's just the kind of organizing crap that I get off on. I could look stuff up all day long and then put it into an easy-to-read, color-coded format for the rest of time.
Unfortunately, the people who requested this info are going to want it this afternoon and I'm sure there's some kind of copying thing I will need to get started on.

Sometimes I feel like a tool because I am kind of a small town girl. So much so, that I get down on Tucson for being such a big city. I get nervous about locking my bike up because I know that the mongrels in this city have no regard for personal property and will steal it even though it's locked up. I'm convinced that the people who are out walking around late at night are crack-addicted petty theives and that if they see me returning up the drive after I take out the trash, they'll probably follow me and break into my house and try to kill me for the $4.83 in my pocket. I can't get used to the idea that people here don't do favors the way they do in Springfield or Carbondale. In my head, the naivety is so strong that I have the tiniest bit of fear, real fear, when I leave the house at night or in the early morning. Noises and people make me nervous if I can't readily identify them.
It's weird - it's just that I am from small towns and I do have reservations about cities. It's not like I can't manage those feelings or anything but I have to put a little effort into it.

arizonasarah at 9:47 a.m.

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