The Red Cross came to our work today for a blood drive. I love these. I love the idea of these, I love seeing people I know doing such a good thing, I love the miniature cookie packets that come after. I love them.
So Bethany said to me last night, are you giving blood? And I'd forgotten about it, but then I got very excited. I was already coming in early for a meeting so I had a perfect little window to, you know, save some lives. I went through the whole deal, are you a gay man having unprotected sex, have you been in jail for 72 consecutive hours, can we check the iron in your blood? Everything was going great.
Then it happened again: They couldn't find my veins. I have subpar veins. They've always been bad, but in the past I've been able to slide by with them digging around in there with a needle. But I do it because I LOVE TO GIVE BLOOD (see paragraph 1). I even used to do apheresis, which requires upwards of 2 hours in a room, leaking blood out one arm and getting some of it back in the other, being subjected to such VHS classics as "Patch Adams." But finally they asked me to stop coming back. There's actually a note in my file. DO NOT TRY TO STICK THIS WOMAN.
So they turned me away. Didn't even stick me. Something about too many valves and "freaky tendons." And I got to keep the shirt, which is GINORMOUS because it's a men's XL, like they always are. If Jeffrey liked white tees with any type on them, I could give it to him. Oh well. I guess I have a shirt in case a person my exact size comes along and wants to share a shirt with me. Although, seriously, I'm guessing that would be "need" to share a shirt, because I can't quite envision a "want" scenario.
The other excitement for the day was going to BJ's for bulk shopping. I put a LOT of things back and still ended up buying a large sum's worth of chocolates, peanuts and fiber bars. Yum!