Me and…Other Me?
Me and OtherMe had an argument yesterday.
For those of you who haven’t been formally introduced, OtherMe is a nasty, taxing little vixen who drinks too much, swears too much, never does the dishes, and speaks four languages: snarky, sarcastic, sardonic, and all-out-bitch.
Me, on the other hand, is a selfless and gentle soul who loves babies and puppies, blushes easily, has mild OCD (but in an endearing way) and never speaks ill of anyone – except maybe bellhops.
The only thing that Me and OtherMe have in common is that neither of them leave the house very often. They aren’t hermits or agoraphobic or anything, they simply can’t decide who gets to go. Sometimes they take turns. Last week was OtherMe’s turn to do the grocery shopping. When the cashier said,
“You saved $37.28 today.” OtherMe lost it:
“Are you tryin’ to be cute or do you have the IQ of a lint ball? I just spent $242.99 on three bags of groceries and didn’t save a dime Einstein!”
Me arrived just in time to stop OtherMe from slapping the terrified cashier. It’s the third store I’ve been banned from this year.
Yesterday’s scuffle was over who was going to the yearly physical.
(Yes, I’m talking about the appointment you think I’m talking about.)
OtherMe wanted to go because she gets some sort of perverse pleasure out of it. At 6am she was spread-eagle on the bed, practicing her rhetoric:
“Strap me down and have a look around doc! Hey, why not bring in a couple residents to practice their skills – and three more to watch while you’re at it. Your supersized salad tongs don’t scare me! Bring it on, baby! Who’s up for a group cuddle when we’re done? ”
Me wanted to go because she wanted the doctor to look at one of her moles. The location of said mole was interfering with her obsessive monitoring for skin cancer. She imagined it had morphed into a multicolored mass the shape of Florida since her last physical.
A battle of wills and hair pulling ensued. In the end they both went.
Here’s what happened:
Doc: Good Morning TMarie, how is your hilarious part-time husband?
Me: He’s good. He’s home most weekends.
OtherMe: Um, excuse me you two – buy WHY does everyone ask about Todd and not me? Is this his appointment? Do you seeee Mr. Hilarious sitting here with his butt hanging out of a paper gown?
Me: I’m really sorry, Me and OtherMe couldn’t decide who was coming today.
OtherMe: She wasn’t trying to be funny doc.
Doc: (Clearing throat) So how are you? Same issues as always?
Me: Oh, you know, just a few new additions.
OtherMe: To the hypochondriac list.
Me: My jaw and ears ache all the time. I came in a couple weeks ago, but you weren’t here. The doctor I saw said it was probably TMJ and gave me a referral for ENT, but they can’t get me in until next month. I think I’m clenching my teeth at night. A glass of wine before bed seems to help some.
OtherMe: Yeah, followed by four gin and tonics.
Doc: (Frowning) Hmm…Why don’t I write a script for a muscle relaxant to take before bed?
OtherMe: Absofreakinlutely doc. I’ll follow it with four gin and tonics.
Doc: (Looking at the chart) Well, the good news is that you don’t need a pap this year.
Me: Really? Are you sure? I’ve always had one every year…
Doc: You’re in a monogamous relationship and your last pap was normal, so you don’t need one for two more years. We’ll do a breast exam and you need a tetanus booster.
OtherMe: Oh, come on, doc! I shaved my legs and all I get is a lousy boob grab? Look, I’m already in the gown! Break out the stirrups! Where are the residents? I’ve never been magnanamous! Not even once!
OtherMe was in such a tizzy of disappointment that I forgot to ask about
my mole. It’ll probably morph into Texas by next year. Of course, next year I’m leaving that psycho freak at home.