An Interesting Day- to Say the Least

Today was full of little errands. Little happenings....
Zoey's rescheduled appointment was at 10:30a.m. today. We checked in about 10:20 and got called back by 10:30a.m. Yay!
Nurse came in quickly. Zoey weighs 30lbs. and is 40" tall. After 10 minutes, the nurse tells us the "doctor" a.k.a. nurse practitioner, will be in shortly. Thirty minutes later, a man in scrubs comes in and tapes a piece of paper on the wall that reads, "We are switching to an Electronic Medical Records program. Your wait time may be longer than normal. Thank you for your patience."
Today I learned not to thank people for something you're not sure they'll give you, i.e. my patience.
Another 20 minutes later, the nurse practitioner comes in and tells me Zoey will need at least one shot. She then asks me if Zoey received a Hepatitis B shot at the hospital when she was born. Hmmm. Let me think back three years to the day my daughter was born, when I was hopped up on drugs, was so tired I kept calling my newborn daughter "him", and was fighting postpartum depression while crying and begging my husband for him and my 2-year-old son to drive 10 miles and sleep on the hospital couch in my room.
I reminded her any shots she received would have been recorded by her original pediatrician in Scottsdale, Az. She looked through her file and there was only the current record, which was a continuance of the original.
I like how it took them until she was 3 to realize she may need her very first Hep B shot.
Anyway, we conclude she'll need 2 shots, she leaves to get them, and returns moments later. I convinced Zoey the doctor and nurse wanted to give her Band-Aids on her legs (she loves Band-Aids) and she cooperatively lies back.
The practitioner gives her 2 shots and Zoey doesn't shed a tear. She looks at me like, "Those Band-Aids kinda hurt", but is otherwise not concerned.
The afternoon continues by picking up my grandma's dog from the groomer.
By 3 p.m., I leave to get a little Christmas shopping done. On my way home, as I drive down the street my home is on, where the speed limit is 25mph, an older man in a beat-up Oldsmobile gets mad at me for going the speed limit. On a two lane road, with no passing, he flies around me then slams on his brakes. Well then....
He continues to fly down the road, then apparently decides he's just too mad at my following the posted limited and slams on his brakes again- sitting there, forcing me to hit the brakes when there's no stop sign, or light. once I'm stopped behind him, he goes forward. From this point, he continuously hit the brakes, screeching to a halt, every 50 feet. He ends up slamming on the brakes in the middle of the road- no stop sign, no light- and gets out of his car, walking toward my now stopped van. Bro looks crazy and I immediately dial 911, report the plate number and vehicle description, and go around him. If he followed, I planned to call home and have Dave meet us in the parking lot in front of the house, with his 45 Ruger- 'cause homie don't play that.
Then I wrapped a few presents, tucked the kids in bed, did some reading for school, and now I'm telling all you lovely people (or one person, I have no clue who reads this) how my interesting day of little happenings went.
Well then... let's hope tomorrow is better, but not any less interesting.