I did get the impression the nurse taking the blood was incompetent, and even the experienced one on staff seemed to be a little bit aloof--not necessarily so much not knowing how to do it, so much as not supervising the person who didn't know how to do it and not giving them clear enough instructions (in spite of both of them speaking the exact same non-English language).
The fact that the nurse constantly had to keep asking if I was okay was also a bit of a sign of newness to me; a more experienced nurse will ask that, but not in a constant barrage which gives the impression of "oh god am I doing something wrong I need to ask to make sure I'm not" (which is what the question when so repeated made me think was going on in her head).
I did have something nice happen there.
When I write my legal name, beit in a signature or in print, I am forced to write. Well. My legal name. But while I must write it and will continue to need to write it until I get my name legally changed to what it should be legally, I put a flair at the end of the 'n' which gives the illusion of a 'na' following it.
This illusion is something people who know me write off as being a flair, as was my intention. They, the people who I don't want discovering my secret (even though frankly it's probably an open secret that everyone knows but is just not going to tell me they know)--namely my dad--won't, because they see it as just a flair.
But writing it that way allows me to experience less dysphoria...and apparently, to those who don't go in with biased assumptions along the lines of, "Oh, guy, so that must be a flair at the end of the n" (the more bigoted the individual, the more said prejudice would make them think that way), the 'flair'...actually does look like the intended 'na'.
Because the doctor for my bloodwork called out for Brianna.
And that was something I was elated to, especially since without missing a beat I responded to that name, and the doctors didn't really react at all.
After that, had brunch of pizza at a local hipster zone in the mall; every lot in that food court was occupied by a local business which in their own ways displayed the stereotypical traits of a hipster-run, hipster-oriented business including their food and drink.
The pizza was the most delicious I've ever had, but the crust was, sadly, burnt, diminishing my enjoyment. Also had a large iced mocha with it.
Once home, I streamed for nine hours.
Now, there's only like six, seven hours worth of content in said stream, butstill.
Was what I did for most of the day.
Good day overall.