Celia took me to the doctor today. I don't understand why I needed to go. I really am fine. I walk every day. At least, I do when I'm not stuck in some waiting room.

I suspect Celia might be a hypochondriac.

The doctor asked me to draw a clock, of all things. I asked her if she needed to go back to kindergarten, if she couldn't remember what a clock looked like. No one else thought that was funny.

By the time we finished lunch, it was 2pm.

"I suppose you'll miss your walk today," Celia said. The nerve!