Here in Brittany getting an appointment with an eye doctor within a couple of weeks is just wishful thinking.
I usually have to wait three solid months before being able to see ( or not to see, that is the question) that specialist.
A way to queuejump ?
Unfortunately, none ! I have racked my brain about one,over and over, in vain !
Trying to bribe him with some butter and sugar-soaked breton dessert is useless. The man is the sporty type and pays attention to his figure (and his activity figures, too...).
Buttering him up and telling him he is a sight for sore eyes, the light of my light , the apple of my eyes ? No way ! That guy is really a badass!
No need to let my imagination run riot and get my hopes up.
I just have to take for granted that, whenever I want to have my eyesight checked, I am doomed to wait three months.
So, if I were a born-organized girl, of course I would make an appointment every year at the same period.
Well, to be honest, when it comes to medical appointments, I am anything but organized.
Fake excuses and procrastination rule the roost !
But, a couple of weeks ago I was gently reminded that there are things that should not be left on the back burner ...
I was nearly done with my week's to-do list and was quite satisfied with myself, even though the red flag ' make an appointment with the eye doctor ' was still flying frantically at the bottom of the list.
Actually, it had already been flying there for two weeks, and, even worse, in small letters ! A kind of ' out of sight out of mind ' rank.
Anyway, it was Friday, 6.30pm, so too late to bother my dear doctor.
I promised to myself it would top the list the week after and as Ulysse , my little dog, was ready for a his walk,off we went.
Ulysse had been frolicking off leash for a while, when I caught sight of a couple with a child on a tricycle and ...a cat on leash ( quite unusual, but why not )coming towards me.
I called back Ulysse and took him in my arms,cause that sweetheart doesn't get along with cats.
As they were getting closer , I could hear them speak English, so when I passed near them, I apologized for not socializing and said :
" I'm sorry but my dog doesn't like cats ".
And I walked away.
That's when I heard the man say to his wife :
" French people make effort to speak English, but jeez they really lack vocabulary ! ' DOG ' is an easy word to remember, isn't it ? ".
I turned back, screwed up my eyes, and realized that actually the cat on leash was a puppy teckel !!
No need to tell you that the week after I called my eye doctor!