Odd jobs

Dan, who is my phlebotomist (yeah, my own phlebotomist, enough kudos...) came to see me at work earlier in the week to take my blood samples, my blood pressure, my temperature...to take everything basically....This is obviously not a run of the mill occurrence at work, and believe me some weird shit goes on at work.

Of course my usually quiet studio is bereft of visitors from one week to the next. I've learnt to leave the "recording in progress" light on at all times and generally I'm left alone....until a strange man is a sticking a syringe in my vein with a tourniquet round my arm and a thermometer in my mouth. Then of course it's open season. Colleagues are in and out like it's Piccadilly Circus. Oh? Are you busy? Shall I come back in a minute? Give us a call when you're done...Finally it quietens down enough for Dan to concentrate on the business at hand - or in the arm.

I've perfected the method of looking in another direction when blood is drawn kicking and screaming from me. It's not that I don't like the sight of blood. Just not the sight of mine leaving my body in a glass container. Which is why I didn't notice anything amiss until Dan says...sorry I've dropped blood all over your carpet and down your arm. Sorry? Sorry? Is sorry enough from a man who comes into your office and spills your blood across the floor? Still, thank god he's not taking the piss.