Today marks one more month before I go on a one month vacation to Argentina.

There are so many things to take care of and although a month sounds like a long time, with my procrastination level, it certainly isn't.

Last Thursday afternoon, S and I set out for the travel clinic. I was a little more concerned than she about the potential for catching some alien disease neither of us could pronounce but she decided to join me on what would become, as usual for us, a little adventure anyway.

I was already nervous before we set out after a co-worker advised us to walk rather than drive as the potential for feeling sick immediately after being administered some of these shots is fairly high.

We showed up at the clinic, which only runs on Thursdays from 2-4, and first thing realised that they only took cash or check. As usual, neither of us had money. We decided to fill out the paperwork anyway.

Then we sat for about 10 minutes contemplating whether we should hand in the information even though neither of us could remember when the last time we were vaccinated for polio or any of the other 20 odd diseases. Or if we ever had been.

"Don't you get one shot for polio and it last for life?" I asked.
"I dunno," S replied.

Finally we made the executive decision to hand in the paperwork and I would ask the kind, government worker at the desk a few simple questions. Namely if she knew or had a list available of the type of shots we "might" need for our travels?

Nope.

Not a big surprise there. We were relying on the government to administer shots.

I sat down and hoped that when we finally made it to the doctor he would "recommend" shots, but we would opt out of all of them saving us both the chance of me fainting (I'm petrified of needles) and money.

"What if he tells us we HAVE to take certain shots. Then what do we do? Tell him we'll come back next week when we have money?" asked a brilliant S.
"I dunno," I replied.

We were, at this point, the blind leading the blind. Surprise, surprise.

We both wondered how we were going to survive together in a foreign land for one month.

"Well, hopefully Rebecca will keep us together," I said, hopefully.
"If Rebecca was here she'd be freaking out. 'What do we do, we need money, I don't have money, Oh effe it let's just go to the beach' would be Rebecca's response," S so nicely reassured me.

We looked at the clock. We'd been there for about 45 minutes and had made absolutely no headway. We didn't know what shots we would need, what shots would be recommended or how much the shots would be.

We felt hopeless.

"When it's 3.15 and we haven't been called, let's leave," S said. I love when she makes decisions.
"Ok. But should we tell them we're going to come back some other time?" I asked.
"No, I'll distract her while you run out," S replied. She has the most brilliant plans.
"Or maybe we can just crawl along the floor and she won't even see us," I countered. I'm so smart.

We opted to just leave. Like the smart girls that we are.