Lloyd and I had some errands to do yesterday, and one of them was to donate blood. I had signed us up for a drive in Lincoln. After Council Fire, I completed my Rapid Pass and received a text: “Your blood drive has been cancelled.” DANG IT!!
I did a quick search and found one in Omaha. We got our acts together and got on the road.
It went pretty well. It was in a big mega-church and was happening during the Nebraska game (which we don’t care about). We were in a multi-purpose room and they had the game up on the big screen. The guy who checked us in made a couple of excited “WOOOO!” noises and the lady who was getting me ready scolded him: “Don’t do that when I’m sticking a needle in this person, ok?”
Anyway, it went just fine. After it was over, they had t-shirts for us. Lloyd didn’t take his, but I sure did. When we got home, I put on my grey hoodie and realized something: For nearly my entire 7th grade year, I wore a M*A*S*H t-shirt and grey hoodie. Granted, my hair was a lot frizzier from a perm, and I am much, much older, but still – I embrace the look.