Call me at 6:30pm and ask me if I can come with you to the doctor's office in the morning. Tell me the appointment is at 9am on East 61st Street and that you want me at your house at 7am. (Because it takes 2 hours to drive across the 59th Street Bridge.) Call me 6 times to make sure I got up on time, didn't fall back asleep, left on time, and that I was on my way. (Because at 26 years old and after 8 years of college, law school and jobs that required me to appear in front of a judge, I don't know how to be on time.) Bitch when I get to your house at 7:30 like I said I would. Yell at every car, complain about the traffic, and comment on the ethnicity of every driver on the road. (Because it's the Greek woman's fault that there's traffic on Queens Blvd., not the fact that you chose to drive into Manhattan during rush hour.) Arrive at the doctor's office at 8:30am, a full 30 minutes before your appointment and the nurses. Inform me at 10am that your tests will take 5 hours and that we won't be leaving until 2pm.
I put Dookie by Green Day on in the car on the way home and screamed along at the top of my lungs. BECAUSE I WAS IN THAT GOOD OF A MOOD.