What happens in Interior Design should definitely stay there (unless of course I choose to blog about it)
Excerpts of the recent conversation that took place: (Take note of capitalized words for emphasis)
1. Susan (counterfeit name to protect the Identity of someone who would probably beat me up if they knew I was blogging about her): So how are your parents handling the fact that you're pregnant Francis?
Francis (another counterfeit name): Really well Susan . They DON'T REALLY CARE that much. And I don't know why, I mean it's not like they're going to have to take care of THE DANG THING.
Helen: So true. When is your ultrasound?
Francis: Next week. But I don't think I even need to see a doctor cause I know IN MY HEART it's a girl. What else do doctors help you find out.
Susan: They help you schedule your appointment at the hospital to have your baby, but that's pretty much it.
Helen: Yeah so you probably don't even have to go EVER cause I bet you can just call in and make a reservation.
Francis: Sweet. I probably don't have time to go anyways cause I'm going to drive down and visit Jim (the father) every Friday starting next week so that he can see how far along I am.
At that point I put my headphones in and started listening to music so as not to scream "YOU IDIOT OF COURSE YOU NEED TO SEE A DOCTOR!!!!" and I missed the rest of that thrilling conversation. Do you think "Steadily worsening insanity" is a good enough excuse for me to transfer out?