As promised, here are a few pictures of Jared's new office. Please refrain from commenting that we need more pictures on the walls...we know we do. I'm thinking about ordering some prints of dogs playing poker, Van Gogh's Starry Night, and Pamela Anderson wearing nothing but sticky tape.
But seriously guys, doesn't this place just make you want to throw your back out?
Think about it. If you sustain a musculo-skeletal injury, this 132-pound hottie will actually touch your body. I bet that's enough to make you want to step into oncoming traffic, and that's totally okay.
Here is a picture of the main treatment space. If you're concerned about farting, jiggling, or screaming during a chiropractic adjustment, then you're in luck--there are two private rooms in the back. And yes--if you come for an appointment, James will be there watching Blues Clues on his tiny DVD player. Saves us a boatload on childcare expenses.
I bet these would be the tables Jared would sleep on if I ever decide to kick him out of the house. They're heated, and if you push them together they turn into a queen.
Some people have suggested that this space could use a coffee table with some magazines. I understand the suggestion, but really now, how are people supposed to jump for joy if there's a coffee table in their way?
This is where our front desk lady, Jared Lawson, sits. She looks exactly like my husband, and she doesn't ask us to pay her a cent. Not a bad deal!
So there you have it--the office that will pay off our student loan debt, replace the Blazer (possibly), buy me some jeans, and hopefully send us to Disney World someday.
Wish us luck!