Today I woke up and decided that I hated everyone I've ever known. Even some little children. Even you. One can't be happy and loving all the time. That's just not natural. So in my mind I put everyone I've ever known in a row and I slapped them one by one. Bip bip bip. And then I decided to divide everyone into two groups...Those that were having fairly stress free lives and those that weren't. I slapped the ones whose lives were going well. Bip bip bip. It felt good. I can't slap the little children. Well, one of them deserves a little slap. Tiny bip. And then I picked out the whiners. The complainers. And some of them were also in the stress free group. Stop whining. Bip bip bip. And then I slapped myself for being so mean. Take that. Take that, you brute. And then I wondered if I was losing my mind. Or maybe I'm just angry and maybe I should buy a punching bag. I'd probably break my hand. I should probably be in therapy but I do not want to talk about my mother anymore. And whenever I've tried therapy all roads lead to that. The mother. The absolutely insane mother. But I surely (yes, don't call me Shirley) do not want to be on my deathbed thinking...Hmmm, just how much did my mother fuck me up? I've gone over it a million times and at this point in my life any choice I have made is my choice! Yes, I made all the wrong choices all by myself and I am very proud of that. She had nothing to do with it. Bip bip bip. That was me punching my computer. I do feel better now. I must think evil thoughts more often.
One thing I've decided to teach myself as a single woman is how to grill. Being an apartment dweller growing up in Chicago I did not know things such as backyards or grills. I did not know avocados or artichokes either. Very exotic. My friend told me what grilling book to buy, which I did, and I've got the tools and the grill and I make occasional attempts at lighting coals and not dropping food through the grate. My son has given me a nickname...GrillMaster T.
Yoyoyo. Wasssup? GrillMaster T here cooking up a storm. Actually the turkey burgers I marinated are almost done. They've been on the grill, oh I don't know...two days. I think they're going to be quite...well done. Yoyoyo.
Tomorrow I become radioactive. I've been so once before. It's very exciting. They inject you with radioactive isotopes and put you in a machine and your cancer glows. Kind of like a radioactive Christmas tree. Oh, it's all so exciting. We shall see if anything I am doing is working. That will determine how many more chemos I have before surgery. I've been thinking a lot about Superman lately and about kryptonite. That's sort of how I feel when I take my pills. Can Superman live surrounded by all that kryptonite? Yes! He's getting up, slowly, slowly. Come on Superman. You can do it! Damn that Lex Luther. F that kryptonite. Get up, Superman. You must save the world!!
Or...Grill something. I am pretty sure those turkey burgers are almost done. Tomorrow...Weiners!!
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I was wondering why my cheek hurt this morning when I woke up.
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