Willow ,'Potential'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
All the best, beth...
I finally called my regular doc to make an appt. today, and I know my pre-appt. test will show bad things re: blood sugar, and I've been all avoidy of everything related to Rx meds and follow-up visits for the last year, and work was consistently stressy, and... it isn't going to be pretty. But, at least I finally made the appt., right?
Also,
bacon & bleu cheese quiche
WANT.
But, at least I finally made the appt., right?
Yup. I made my appointment when I was ready to deal with my health issues.
Bodies is weird.
So weird, and just as you have them figured out, they change.
Gronk. I had way too much stuff to do today.
On the plus side, my abstract got accepted for a grad student combinatorics conference. On the minus side, I've got to totally rewrite it, because my adviser doesn't think that the topic I submitted on will be ready to be published by then, and he doesn't think that I should present this result before I publish it somewhere.
Too much work. Too much math. And I've got to teach tomorrow.
So my dad now doesn't know for sure that they got all of the cancer in his operation. The doctor said the pathology looks "pretty good," but they're going to have to check again in a few months to see if he's going to need radiation or more. I have a pit in my stomach right now. Fuck cancer.
I've also apparently aggravated my tendonitis to the point that I can't even hold a pen, which is going to make grading the last 21 essays I was trying to finish by Friday a bit impossible.
It's 8:30, and I think I'm going to go to sleep. Seriously, enough of today.
Oh Kristin I'm so sorry. Major Fuck Cancer ~ma for your dad.
In ISwearI'mNotSpeakingEnglishSometimes News...
Me: were there any hot dogs left over?
Minion: no
Me: Cool. Usually there are some left over.
5 minutes later...
Minion: uh, what do I do with the hotdogs? There were three left over.
{{Kristin}}
Fuck cancer. And the horse it rode in on.
{{{{Pix}}}}
No brackets, please. I mean, thank you very much for the support, but seriously, I'm okay. I just needed to say it.
Double fuck cancer.