I went to the bank yesterday to make a deposit. The teller asked me if I was a vet.
Inside my brain: “How did he know that? Am I wearing vet jewelry or clothes? No. I don’t actually own anything like that. Do I have my nametag still on? Am I covered in cat hair? No and No. Wow, he must be psychic!”
Then I realized that I had just handed him a check from a local veterinarian that was made out to Dr. Me. Apparently he isn’t psychic.
And maybe I’m a moron.