This afternoon I had to take photographs of cancer tissue, an experience I'm likely not to forget.  I feel itchy thinking about it because I imagine that at least five or so of the enormous moles from my back will end up in a tissue block and then photographed by a blonde exclaiming, "EWWWW!"  

 I arrived to the science lab about an hour late because I was driving up and down Wasatch Lane thinking it was Wakura Lane.   I think I saw I a 'W' on the street sign and assumed I had found the correct street and then spent the next half hour explaining to my co-worker how Google Maps had really let me down.   Once we had arrived I rushed into the lobby feeling flustered, my mind racing between different lies and scenarios that could explain why I was late.  It was at that moment that the receptionist checking me in asked if I could verify my employer, or to provide some kind of identification, before letting me through steel barriers protecting what must be an atomic bomb.

To that question I answered, "I have a cell phone?"

Really?  That was the best answer I could come up with?  I have a cell phone.  But what a great idea, my phone should totally be an ID card.

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