End of April entry. Cruelest Month has come and gone, the calendar pages turn whether we go with them or not. I don’t mean to sound too Weberian, too Protestant-work-ethic-y, still I can’t help but think more than ever questions like, “Last month is gone, what did I do?” It’s more than thinking, Sheri, I think this qualifies as full rumination. Not to the obsessional point, still, to a point hard not to notice. Where’s Dr. Malfi?
Quote from Tony Soprano (Season 1 I think): "Cunnilingus and psychiatry brought us to this!" (I swear this was *not* even planned, but a friend emailed this qte out of the blue, so when I realized the insane uncanny connections captured by Tony's line by the brilliant logic of his context and idiom, what choice did I have? One of those fleeting moments when life makes sense.... well sort of...)
Another of my sisters texted me today to check: “Has the eagle landed?” Hmm, I know one of your readers uses the same phrase in a quite a different frame of reference. Enough said. (And not totally unrelated in this windspeak here, my third sister had to email to ask me question about salad/s. I told her that her 17-year old could enlighten her.)
Though one additional connection can be suggested publicly: this same friend who references the migratory & flight patterns of eagles did ask me something. After my thong post thing, said friend, who is not from Seattle, wants to know you Zara Zara Zara ‘O, or at least “who you are” & “what you’re like.” What do you think…? Should I tell? ;-)
Chemotherapy. Remember that? After one week completely off the drugs and trying to cleanse my system, regain some strength, put on a few pounds through the Mormon Neighborhood Casserole Diet (= Atkins + Carbs + Jello), with Boost on the side, I began feeling better. My realization now is that chemo does in fact suck. For all I can tell my hair might actually be getting thicker, but chemo is not nice to my system, the feeling is simply there in the gut, just a gnawing, a breaking down, and less so elsewhere yet still there. Again, it’s not excruciating or debilitating by any means--knock wood--it is simply everpresent, everannoying, and unavoidable. Not unlike conservativism these days.
On the Franky scale I’m going for a 6/7.
Finally, I returned to my cats, but to mail and bills too, and yes the bill from Dr. Hands was here. About 5 G’s. Once I saw this I realized I did the right thing not tipping him. For that price I also should have been given the full wax job rather than the cheap little Lady Bic Electric Trimmer. Thank the labor movement of Washington State historically that I have such good health insurance. Wobblies of the world!
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