• My mastery of the obvious wanes

    Common sense struck fourteen hours too late today.

    You should know this already, but if not, take this opportunity to learn from others’ mistakes.

    How did I become an other? Oh woe is me! Am I the mother of all others?

    If there’s any chance a doctor’s appointment may cause worry, for God’s sake people, take the morning appointment!

    How it fits into your work schedule should be WAY down on your list of priorities, unless for some reason missing time at work will cause more anxiety than the long wait. In that case, you have no alternative. Take two happy pills and call me in the afternoon (if you’re a little too mellow to drive).

  • Ready or not

    I was mentally prepared for my doctor’s appointment on Friday. By prepared I mean it was sufficiently far off in the future I hadn’t thought about it.

    His office called me this afternoon, asking if they could bump it up to tomorrow.

    No, I’m not ready.

    “Yeah, that’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

    Ugh.

    So tomorrow it is. Another date with my oncologist. There’s no reason to worry.

    But that doesn’t mean I won’t.

  • The first showing?

    I elected to stay home from work today, but I find myself around the corner at a coffee shop. It’s nine-thirty a.m., do you know where you realtor is? Actually, mine’s off the hook this morning – someone else was supposed to be showing the house.

    But I’m sitting here, monitoring my email, waiting for that message that’s supposed to come when someone has activated the lock box at the house. I’m freakishly tired. By that I mean Jesus, the holy roller himself, could sit down beside me and ask (rhetorically) how church has been, and I’m not sure I’d be capable of a surprised or emotional response.

    “Well, do you mind if I call you JC? To be honest it hasn’t been doing much for me lately. What about you? How are doing? Did you catch any Rays games this year? What does JC do when he wants to let his hair down, so to speak?”

    I’m not keen on the idea of being in the house when it’s being shown, but I’m not going to sit in a coffee shop all day either, even if there’s a high likelihood someone showing the house later would come across the sleeping owner, dead to the world. I’m only sitting up now because I’m being propped up by a proper cup of coffee – in all its caffeinated glory. (Amen!)

    Please don’t tell my doctor.

    My patience is drawing thin. My head longs for its pillow. My sinuses plead for medication.

    To hell with it. I’m going home.