Pink Sloth

Hmmm. So now that we know I lived (so far, anyway; obviously I need to build suspense) apparently my blog is no longer interesting. My readership has dropped precipitously in this last week. Is it possible to have a negative number of readers? Possibly, if some of you demanded the time back that you wasted on earlier posts?  Or maybe, if I'm not a daily habit, it just doesn't happen? Or, perhaps, just perhaps, you, like me, have returned to the regular programming of your life. Uninterrupted by cancer. That's a lovely thought, isn't it? Well, sure, yeah, it is...except for that whole part where you don't care about me anymore....(kidding! I can totally handle ...the rejection...totally. Really, I'm happy you have a life. No, really.)

In the last week, post-"I really need to prioritize and perhaps really did lose my mind in chemo" revelation--I have been trying to be a bit more judicious in my life choices. I'm new at this and clearly it's going to take a little time. But, as I work on the memoir (and I have!! It's 66 really crappy pages now...subject to many, many changes)  I find less energy for the blog. Makes sense, my mind is back in earlier times (how Seamus got his name; how Chris and I came to be; those sorts of memoir-ish things), and current times (the law practice!)  and hey, let's face it, regular life just isn't as funny as breast cancer treatment (stop the hate mail--I said "treatment"; breast cancer isn't funny--what one goes through in treatment for breast cancer is completely, totally, undeniably, absurd).

Today, however, I realized just how out of the breast cancer loop I had become...and in just a week! Today was breast cancer awareness day...in the beginning of Breast Cancer Awareness month. Today was the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure all over the country.  I had several friends participating in several of the races, and they were posting pictures on their FaceBook pages. I was sleeping in, having my second cup of coffee and reading "Kinky Gazpacho" by Lori Tharps (and it's good; I need memoir examples!) and friends and folks everywhere were out walking for the cure. Or, er, racing for the cure. I can't even fake it--I'm too lazy and pink-adverse for that. Give up a Sunday? Exercising? With crowds of sweaty people?? No!! Isn't it enough I had cancer and did the whole breast cancer "Survivor" thing? Must I get out of bed and walk too? No. No. I don't have too.

Then Chris turned on the television to watch football. And the players and refs had donned pink hats, and gloves and....and....shoes!! The big, burly NFL dudes were in pink shoes!! Based on Facebook and television (and really, is there any other form of life??), Chris and Seamus and I were the only beings not participating in some sort of breast cancer awareness thingy. I have to admit, it felt a little strange. Was I supposed to be doing something breast-cancer-y today? Can't I claim the "too soon" excuse? Or am I, as I suspect, just a giant pink sloth?

It's good to know  that some things never change. Once a cancer dork, always a cancer dork. Not only did I manage to not at all handle my breast cancer in the expected way, apparently I'm not doing the survivor thing right either!

I'm determined though. So next Sunday at the Brunch for Breasts....I'm doing penance. 3 brunches and 2 Cure Royales for me! Also, we took Seamus for a walk tonight. But he adamantly refused to don a pink collar.