Which translates to me becoming a frantic lunatic on the freeway, nee parking lot this morning as I scrambled to make the 15 minute drive in 30 minutes (if you've ever driven in rush hour anywhere, you know what I mean).
I had just about made it to the LA-USC Medical Center Patient Services structure (it's more than a building - it's a block long statement) when I ran head-on into the Sheriff Department's security check-point. That meant lining up all my bags (I could win big prizes on Let's Make A Deal with the crap in my purse alone) on the conveyor belt, and stepping through the metal detector.
Yes, it went off. And yes, they had to wand me. But that was nothing compared to the "knife" they said was in my purse.
Okay, what is it with men. I have a purse and a bag (think shopping bag, only fashionable), and the cop couldn't determine from the screen which one I had to dump out? I ended up dumping out both, which cost me time and my happy countenance, which I knew I'd need to get through the day.
Happy that they couldn't find the knife (although they did get a glimpse of my personal life), they let me go, although I didn't know where I was and how to get there. The kindest nurse (Eliyahu HaNavi dressed as a black woman) ever saw my look of distress and led me halfway through the hospital to the meeting room, which I nearly refused to leave for fear of getting lost (I was gonna hold "it" in all day).
Just another adventure with G-d at my side. Hopefully, next time, He'll drive.