Awkward

I had one of those mornings the other day when I knew I was coming across as far more awkward than I really am. You know what I'm talking about?

While at the dermatologist, the nurse and I had about four miscommunications in the span of ten minutes. I'm generally adept at social interactions and consider myself an effective communicator, but let's just say that's not what came across that morning. To my credit, I'd only had four hours of sleep the night before (thank you, Moo, for teething), and the nurse wasn't the best communicator, but still.

Figure one:
When I was called back, I followed the nurse to the end of the hall. At the end of the hall was another nurse who smiled and said hello while the nurse who'd called me back took a right around the corner. I stopped at the end of the hall. For a moment,  I couldn't tell if I was supposed to go with the new nurse who smiled and said hello and looked like she was going to take me elsewhere or if I was supposed to follow nurse #1 who called me back to begin with.

"She went that way," nurse #2 said, pointing around the corner. "You thought I was her, didn't you?"

Obviously I saw which way she went; I was five steps behind her. And of course I didn't think they were the same person. Give me some credit. (Sigh, internal eye roll). Smiling, "No, I didn't think you were her; I just thought she was passing me off to you. Sorry about that." Awkward.

That began a series of similar conversations that left me embarrassed for myself. I knew I was being awkward but I couldn't stop it. I wanted to tell them I had a Master's degree and was top of my class in high school and that I was teacher, for crying out loud, that I wasn't the ditz I appeared to be. But in the end, all I could do was be glad that I didn't have to see them again for another four months. Or maybe ever. I haven't decided yet.