In which I try to interview a city councillor and spend 5 hours in the hospital instead

Continuing the series on my Increasingly Dangerous Tuesday Activities:

I woke up Tuesday morning and realized I had absolutely no pressing engagements of any kind, so I decided to donate blood. Blood donation can be somewhat of an all-day affair for me, so I try to save it for a day when my schedule is completely clear. 10 minutes after I made my appointment at CBS for noon, I got a call from Harvey Smith, whom I've been hounding all week to give me an interview about eco-friendly house renovations, saying that I could come and interview him at 2pm that day.

The Revenge of the Taturday Friend

As you may recall*, several weeks ago I had a visit from my Taturday friend, an incredibly innebriated man who showed up on a Tuesday morning (my version of Saturday) and tried to break the door down in search of a woman named Kristin. In the end I was victorious and he was in jail, but apparently that experience has imprinted in me the idea that anyone knocking at my door intends on breaking my door down. Fast-forward three weeks. I'm house-sitting at a friend's house. I'm all alone. It's 3:30 in the morning. I am awakened by a very desperate knocking at the door.

Taturday

My Saturday is a day that most of the world actually refers to as 'Tuesday'. It is the one day of the week when I am basically guaranteed to not have to get up early, not go to work, and definitely not lead a church service followed by a lunch potluck where I spend most of the time trying to think of appropriate questions to ask a pastor from the DR Congo. Ah, Tuesday: a day where I am allowed to do nothing at all*.