Meet me at 3:15

Well, it's 8:30 pm and I just tucked my husband into bed and kissed him goodnight because he has to report to the hospital tomorrow at 5:30 am. Unfortunately, his first days of school have been much more exciting than mine, so I'll be stepping in as his "designated blogger" until he gets a little more rest and a little more free time.

Today he had to go to a conference in a building that is technically within walking distance of our campus, but not really--because pedestrians take their lives into their own hands at every street crossing in San Antonio. (Example: Yesterday I saw a car stop completely at a red light, grow impatient in 3 seconds, and then turn left while it was still red.)

Knowing the dangers of walking, Jeffrey and Kevin (the other 3rd year on rotation with Jeffrey) took Kevin's car over to the building. When they asked the security guard where they should park, he said, "Anywhere you want." They informed the guard that they were students and needed zone 4 parking (like our parking pass says), the man said, "There's not any over here. You'll have to park elsewhere." They asked if their parking ticket could be validated with someone so they didn't have to pay. The answer, of course, was no.

Shaking off this confusion, they went to their conference and hung around a little bit afterward. Jeffrey was busy talking to someone in the building when his partner in crime suddenly started to pull him out the door. Kevin said that he had just received a strange phone call from one of the secretaries in the surgery office.

The secretary had called Kevin and told him that one of the surgeons wanted to meet with him and with Jeffrey. She asked, "Can you guys be in our office at the hospital at 3:15?"

Kevin, glancing down at his watch, noted that it was already 3:15 at that moment and they weren't even on the same campus.
He answered, "Sure."

Moral of the story: If you can't time travel, don't bother trying to become a surgeon.