Oh Hi

I found a co-worker's flash drive at work, and had to open it to find out who it was, and it turned out to be an engineering prof's. Who, as it turns out, is only MOONLIGHTING as a tenure-track prof....(?!!); his secret identity is that of a Wild Screenprinting Artist in The City. Oh my! It is not so fun when one realizes that the work world one has been taking (much too) seriously seems to another as not much more than an amusing set of metaphors. I went back and replaced my cute little cat photo on my Facebook profile with an ironic cartoon.

I'm still up, picking at my cuticles over this.

Actually, I just can't sleep. I see the endocrinologist tomorrow. She must think I'm crazy because I always have a complaint. Today I emailed her because I've had this crazy chest pain for the past week or so, like my ribs are bruised. I think it's just a remnant from the cold I've been trying to shake off, but you know how it is when you've had cancer (maybe not) in a nearby region. She told me to come straight in for a chest x-ray, which I did. Tomorrow I will find out if I am truly fucked (do NOT Google "sternum removal"--ok, I'll save you the trouble. They replace it with a synthetic...cage) or not. I don't think I am, but will relay the news either way.

On other fronts. This week has been nutsilishus. Jeff almost got fired for insubordination. Then he almost transferred to another office. Then he realized that that would totally wreck our life, logistically speaking. He reneged. HR made him come in and do a "conflict resolution" with his boss, who brought in a wooden paddle inscribed with the words, "I yell because I care" or something like that. Apparently, Jeff needed some visual aid in understanding that it's ok for one licensed clinical social worker to verbally abuse another (?!!!). Needless to say, we have made a few exceptions in the "no drinking during the weekdays" rule, of late.

The girls are pretty great: good sports in almost everything. Who knew that an old, pee-stained mattress and a plastic slide could be so diverting? Sophie tops each gruesome wound with another that's bloodier and has more skin flaps hanging off. Puncture wound in the upper lip/mandoline-style shredding of the top of the big toe/etc. etc. etc. Lucy got new Bettie Page-style bangs (not exactly on purpose) which make her look extra cute.

Speaking of which, we have a new kitten, Hester (who could just as easily be named "Plasma"). Today, when I was getting my blood drawn, the guy's eyes lingered at my wrists. "I have a new kitten!" I blurted out. The guy looked bewildered.
I actually waited a few beats.
"The scabs," I said, in a falsetto. "I swear, I'm not a cutter!!!!!!!!"
I'm not sure if he laughed because he thought it was funny or if he just wanted me out of there.

I hope you don't mind this rambling. I'm trying not to channel Lorrie Moore, but it's not working. It's a tic I've had since third grade.

Good night, y'all!