I'm Trying

Yeah, that's not really how I'm feeling. But I'm trying. My funk continued through the hot, sweaty, insomniacal (new word; but it works) night and right on through the morning. I even attempted to take some of it out on the unsuspecting gardener. Because really, is the "Dog in Yard" sign on the gate not enough of a reminder to close the freaking gate??? No, no it isn't. But the bald hysterical woman screaming "shut the f*&^ing gate!!!!" from the upstairs window? This is enough of a reminder to get the gate closed pronto and just before the banshee beagle was unloosed. Unfortunately, the gardeners were also enough to set Seamus off on a howling frenzy that was going to explode my already fragile and tenously contained head, and he would not be dissuaded from his fury (after all, he had my lead to go on). There was nothing for me to do but go to work and vent and vent and vent to my poor friend Laureen--who is also my paralegal and therefore at least gets paid to listen to all my crap. Then we did the adult thing and drowned our moods in Wendy's cheeseburgers. That actually helped. Maybe it was the venting, maybe it was the cheeseburgers, or the Dr. Pepper, or all of the above. But it helped. I felt mildly better. Enough to at least get some work done. And a client called, just to check and see how I was doing--which was really nice and totally unexpected.

When I came home this evening, I tried to be more judicious in my choices. So I did nap (an hour and a half). Chris made a nice gazpacho for dinner (I've been craving vegetables; don't ask. I don't know.). And rather than read or watch anything that might set me off, we watched American Idol (love me some Adam) and then Dancing with the Stars. Pretty innocuous stuff. And yet, they had this dance performance by Macy's Dance Stars and I found myself watching it and thinking "yeah, whatever. A bunch of talented, pretty, perfectly diverse, young healthy, beautiful kids in yet another showy performance. Who the hell cares? Why does this matter? Get off the stage. Stop wasting my time." Right. 'Cause I was in a hurry to get to the substantive and intellectual celebrity dances?? Yeah, I don't know where I was going with that, but I can tell you I was bitter! I did at least recognize it and laugh at myself a little. So this is progress, right? Maybe? Anyway, sorry for the rant. And um, this rant too.

But in medical news, Dr. Karam has checked out and given the "okay" regarding the radiation oncologist conveniently located by both my office and a Starbucks (very key for daily radiation). I'm in the process of getting my records faxed over to her so we can set up the consultation and I can learn what I need to do for phase three of this cancer odyssey. Yip. Eee.