Saturday

I had an infusion of the bone-strengthening drug Aredia yesterday. I might be a little spacey, a little feverish, but six or so weeks out from my last chemotherapy I still can't believe how good I feel.

As always, I don't have to know that I"ll be alive in five years to be happy today. I just need to not feel bad physically now. I'm very good at putting blinders on OR enjoying the moment, depending on how you want to put it.

The Lunch Ladies have been telling stories about their husbands again. They love their husbands -- I assume they do, anyway -- but all of their stories have a punch line about the husband's incompetency, or unwillingness to "go out and DO things", or his messiness, or his desire to take naps, watch sports, or kill things.

Couldn't pay me to be married to one of those fellas. There was never any danger of that, anyway, on accounta none of those fellas would have wanted me!

One woman, who was really warming to her topic of How Things Used To Be Better, reported that her mother used to do house work in a dress w/ stockings and full makeup.

The nostalgia they have for their childhoods in San Leandro, CA is still a mystery to me. I try to drop little reality bombs into the conversation: yeah, but, you weren't allowed to wear pants to school, were you, ladies?

Not to mention that they've managed to blame most of the "demise" of the area on immigrants.

But, anyway... I was talking about husbands.

I don't have any stories with Eric's incompetence or cluelessness as the punchline. To me Eric is (and always has been) the bomb. That's all I meant to say.