Recently, my place of employment hosted a smart young researcher from Berlin, Germany. On her last day with us, a luncheon was given in her honor, because 1) she did an outstanding job and 2) any excuse for a gyro!
"Grey-Haired Goddess," said Berliner lamented to me at her farewell luncheon, "my school at home is a mess. So disorganized. Those administrators need someone like you to straighten them out."
"Did you hear that?" I fairly screamed at Dr. Lifesaver, who was actually sitting right next to me. "I think you should sent me to Berlin." After all, telling others how to run their businesses, schools, and lives is more than a hobby for me. More, even, than a vocation. It's a sacred calling.
Months have gone by, so I figured it was time to remind Dr. Lifesaver that neither I, nor Berlin, are getting any younger. I burst into his office, where he is occupied with some X-Rays. You should see him look at those things, scrutinizing every single detail. You would think it was life or death or something.
"So, remember that researcher from Berlin?" I ask him. "Remember how I should go to Berlin and help them get organized? Yeah, let me know when I should start packing."
Dr. Lifesaver gave me that look, so I rewinded and quickly told him the story from the beginning, .
"Oh, yes, Berlin," he replied. "Hmmmm...Mrs. Dr. Lifesaver has always wanted to see Berlin."
Uh-oh. I don't like where this is going.
"So you...want me to make the reservations?" I ask. "You know, for me." I clarify.
"Ahhh....let me get back to you," he replied.
Dang. I know what that means. It means I am going to get another stupid postcard to add to my stupid postcard collection.
Last time I tell him my travel plans.
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