Just Some Thoughts...

...after along day.

• Don't try to juggle three IM's at one time. I can't do it. I tried tonight and somehow pulled it off, and they were all with friends, so I wasn't gonna bury myself with a shovel, but if you know me, and you want to talk, you have my number. Call me. I'll feel safer, if only because there are some things that I hold close, and wouldn't want to give anything away, and if you've ever done it, you know how you think you're typing in the right box and your ass ain't. Since these were friends it wouldn't have been that big of a deal, but it always lends itself to some scary moments.
  
  
• I hate it when I start hearing things around the holidays that it's all about food. Hey, motherfucker, I don't eat much, and food ain't high on my list. Don't send my ass some basket full of tripes that I wouldn't even feed to my spiders, much less the roaches that I didn't even know had taken up residence in my abode. I want expensive electronic stuff. Or sex toys I can raffle at the Christmas Eve midnight mass.
  
  
• Some asshats seem to think that they are better than air and take advantage of women. And, NO, I won't let this one go. For no reason other than the fact that I have fought this my whole life. They are women and you have no right other than to respect them. If you can't, then asshole, go to skid row and find a scab infected junkie. That's what you deserve.
  
  
• I have a PSA test coming up on the day before Thanksgiving. I hate this shit. Not the test. That's just an easy blood draw. I can watch those all day. I have veins for days so it's always about a thirty second procedure for me. I just hate getting the result. When you see that letter in your mailbox your heart goes right out your fucking shoes. Sometimes you get the result fairly quickly, sometimes not. I normally get them in about a week. My usual procedure is to put the letter on the table, go change, brush my teeth (so I get my three-a-day in) and get a glass of wine. Then I have to ponder what my options are. If it's bad, my ass is screwed, if it hasn't gone up too much, I'm good. It's one of the worst things you can go through. And in my case I open it all by myself. No support. Just me. I take the knife I have to open mail and peal that thing as slowly as I can, knowing that my life could be slipping out of that envelope just as quickly as I popped out of my Mom's belly. And then I'll stare at it for a few minutes. Not reluctantly, because I'm not scared of the outcome. I've been doing this for five years. I'm used to that. What bothers me about it? You'll have to ask. And I will gladly reply. It's called PSA anxiety. And it sucks. And I will do it again next Wednesday. And I will then go travel to see my sons and my Mom, and make the best of the holiday. And if you are healthy then I suggest you do likewise. If you have issues with other people and you want to fuck up their day, then stay home. I know I wouldn't want you around. You have NO idea how lucky you are.