Pissify Me.

I woke up feeling like any person does on a Monday morning; wide-eyed, gorgeous, and ready to conquer the world.

Just kidding.

Well, I woke up as how I usually do on a working day - 15 minutes after the alarm on my trusty Nokia goes off. I crawled out of bed and realized I've not much time to be pretty today, so I consoled myself by grinning at the mirror and telling myself I'm beautiful anyway, then scampered downstairs to have breakfast.

Boys and Girls,
Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
Don't skip it.

Anyhow, upon entering the kitchen I saw my dad, who usually at this hour reads his papers while languishing on the porcelain chair.

Curious enough, he was waiting to speak to me.

"Later when you go to work you stop by Timberland for me," says he.

(Timberland is a private medical centre near my work place)

"Oh, you want me to pass something to Doctor T?", referring to my dad's friend whom we bumped into a few days ago.

"Nolah. You take this and tell them to do a test on it," says the man who once was my hero as he passed me a pink plastic bag with some bottle and a piece of medical prescription paper in it.

"It's my urine. Take it for a urine test."

My left eyebrow goes up.

"Here's the money to pay for it, and tell them to send the report over to Doctor T when it's done."

My eyebrow is still up.

Okay, dad.

ONLY because it's you.

And I skipped merrily to the lab with a pink plastic bag in one hand,
and my mineral water bottle in the other.