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Tuesday, April 4, 2000

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Checking out etchings

I lunched by the little pond next to Park and 2nd Street. The pigeons were out in force. They are beautiful, if only they weren't so messy. The pale green of new leaves against the sky was very spring like and one little tree has white blossoms. It's a rather small pond, tiny to be exact. It was in the high 80s by noon and everything smelled so good. I could still smell some orange blossoms, although they are about gone. There is nothing that smells so good as orange blossoms. The oranges are sour oranges and aren't good for anything but jam or marmalade, but the blossoms smell wonderful.

I walked through the drama/arts complex where some drama students were practicing stick fighting. They also practice sword fighting there. I'm sure it takes a lot of practice to kill someone without hurting them.

The Museum of Art had the whole first floor roped off andtheywere putting up the MFA exhibition. This is always an interesting exhibit as they all try to shock a little more than the last one. I remember one a few years ago that included blood soaked tampons. I forget what it was suppose to mean.

I decided to look at the etchings upstairs. They have a nice selection of the 19th century artists from Europe. I enjoy looking at etchings as the fine details are so mesmerizing. I keep following the tiny lines further and further in. Now I have to take off my glasses since I'm not too good at fine print anymore.

It was nearly six when I left work and when I stopped by the store to pickup a prescription a lady in the front of the line was yelling. The poor pharmacists were trying to explain why the prescription wasn't ready but she didn't want explanations. It for prozac so perhaps that explains it. The next person had some WIC coupons that the pharmacists wouldn't ring up because they said they did it wrong last time and got in trouble so they had to call someone else to ring it up.

The lady in front of me kept asking questions about side effects and such. The pharmacist finally got out their little book that lists all that and asked the lady to go to the next window where she could read all about her prescription. Finally it was my turn and my prescription was not ready. It seems that it is up for renewal and they had to call the doctor and the doctor had not called back. It's not urgent but now I'll have to go back.

The pharmacists, they were all women, were quite patient and polite through all this. I admired them. I haven't been thrilled with the cutbacks in the pharmacy hours, etc., since the store changed hands, but the pharmacists seem to be cool.

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(c) Rachel Aschmann 2000.
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