I guess it's a Monday, alright. I don't feel particularly well-rested, despite the quiet weekend I had with Eric. We went to the movies yesterday -- saw The Illusionist -- but that was about it.
I owe a few folks emails, and I apologize for being so bereft of yak yak yak.
Monday morning and I'm going to work. The odd political situation that made me an Innocent Bystander is NOT resolved, as previously posted. Now an official grievance and charges of harrassment have been filed. It has ratcheted up. Sigh.
I'm leaving work two hours early today to go meet with my oncologist. I'm hoping to be wrongwrongwrong. My "internal sense" of my situation (as the onc calls it -- I call it pain) has been on the money so far, but this could be the time that the pain is all in my head, and not in my bones. We shall see.
I saw an ad recently. A beautiful woman in her late fifties, early sixties... bald... gorgeous... looking up at the sky with a look of determination and almost joy. The copy: We can live without hair. We can live without (something other). We can't live without Hope for a Cure.
Oh?
Checking pulse. Wiping Brow.
Fuck them.
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