Okay.

This week…

Today, I took the truck to Seymour for an airbag repair recall.   The truck is some 8 years old and there’s still recalls on it?   Damn.

Tomorrow, Tuesday –
Day with the little brother.   That probably means the gym and seeing Detective Pickachu.

Wednesday is all about the little sister.
Hoping for a mani/pedi, but we’ll see.

Thursday is up in the air.  I’m not sure who has what off, but I’m going to be going out somewhere with someone.

Friday…..
I’m going to try to make Friday a me-ish day.  I’m heading up north for a second opinion on this lump they found.  This cancer doctor was highly recommended by the girls at the gym.  It’s also the same organization that was responsible for my second cancer surgery.

So, you know… some stress there.  My aunt, dad’s sister, died to this type of cancer right around when she was my age… or maybe a little younger.  That might be one of the reasons why I put off getting a second opinion for four months after it was discovered.    You know, that and I’m super burned out on doctors.

But, even if I don’t want to know, which in a way I don’t, I kind of feel like I owe it to mom and everyone.    She worries and after that whole anorexia thing, I’d like to keep her worried about me to a minimum.

So, Friday, new cancer doctor.    I think she’s Dr. C.

Saturday is pretty much going to be all about packing and grading.

Sunday is going to be pretty exhausting.
I’m running around with the little sister.  Then, we’re going up north for community day and dinner.   She’s going to drop me off at IND so I can catch a late fight to TPA.  Depending on her time table, because I don’t have a time table when it comes to days with her, I’m really going to be on the move.

Kind of looking forward to it.  Kind of not looking forward to it.  For some reason, she starts to grate on the nerves after a couple of hours, but I’ll suck it up.

I’m also apprehensive about the flight.   Not about the actual flying.  It’s like falling.    It’s not the fall or the flight that gets me.   It’s the landing.

The more I think about the transition from sister/daughter to girlfriend (wife-ish?) the more it feels like a tiny death.  One side fades.   The other brightens.  Since my change is practically seasonal now, maybe the better analogy is like a shedding snake.   I’m fine afterward, I think, the transition is itchy.

Here, I’m limited and I’m not limited.
I’m never lonely.   There’s always someone I can pester if I really want to.  I’m also always doing something, rather it be with myself or my sibling.   I’m always on the move, except when for the rare times – like now – when everyone is at work or hiding.  I have time to myself and this is when I feel I can actually attempt to write.   Alone.  No interruptions.

There, I’m limited and not limited.
I don’t have a car, am limited to the number of people I can pester – which is just one, two if you count the cat.   I can go places and I honestly don’t mind trying to figure out the bus system or walking a couple of counties.   It just frustrating seeing everything that needs to be and not being able to do it.

I like to take care of things.   I like to take care of people.  That’s the ‘earthy’ side coming out.

But, I still would like to be taken care of.   I don’t mean like the way women where taken care of in “Leave it to Beaver.”   Rather, I just want to be taken care of me because I’m me.   …  Not because of what I can do.   Not because of what I have.   But, just because I’m me.

Brain is starting to go into a bad place again.
It’s been doing that a lot lately.

I really don’t know what I should be anxious about.   By skimming Drudge, the world is a lot worse off than I am.   My cancer, anxiety, and depression are just first-world issues to Iran men who are fined for looking at women during Ramadan.

I guess that means sexting would be right out.

Bleh.