So yesterday, as suggested, Marce and I went to pre-register for Mia’s birth at the best of the 3 (soon to be 2) hospitals in Gainesville. This was our third attempt, since the last two times, the wait for registration was at least half an hour, and we didn’t want to waste time sitting around. We were told there was only 1 person ahead of us, so we were very excited about finally getting this minor task off our to-do list.
After about 10 minutes, a woman with the nastiest case of “I-don’t-wanna-be-here” I’ve ever seen ushered us into a tiny room and plopped down in front of her computer. The first words out of her mouth were “I need your driver’s license and insurance card”. Not “hello”, or “how are you?”, or “Congratulations, and thanks for choosing our hospital!” She just extended her arm from behind her desk (throne?) and waited for the requested items.