The Next 64 Days Are The Hardest
I’m restless. I want to crawl out of my skin. I need spring to get here yesterday. I have to see the PCP on Friday and for the first time I am more worried about that than the CT scans. I have a million things I want and need to do and I sit here paralyzed, doing nothing.
At least I’m off the cookies. That was a rough patch.
I wish I was a bear. I could sleep through this and wake up in a few months, eat a person and get started on my summer. I’ve been growing hair on my legs since October anyway.
And I’m rambling.