Still Griping and Afraid of the Surgeon
8/17/1

What on earth am I going to write about? I�m in a horrible mood and I�m stalling on eating lunch since my stomach is really bothering me since I know [know know know] I�m getting that alleged cyst attached to my tendon cut out.

When you scrape yourself on something, it hurts, granted. But if you�ve ever had surgery, or a deep knife cut, then you know that deep stuff hurts more. Ooh, hurt hurt hurt.

I wish dumb ol� TC was here keeping the inappropriate humor going to distract me from the freakishness that is this office. [No, TC is not dumb, but he gets called that because, dang it, he should be here.]

On that subject, when I was doing dishes yesterday, I was thinking, �You know, I really would like it if Martin Luther King�s Dream was reality.� Later that day, sitting with Aisai in Wendy�s, moping over my 99-cent chili, 99-cent potato, and 99-cent Caesar salad, I was thinking, �Is there anywhere I can move and people won�t just dislike each other and make ignorant statements constantly?�

And if I hear the damn �eating cats� crap again�I�ll probably just make the same semi-humorous statement that I always do.

See, no restaurant would really serve cat meat. Cats really don�t have enough meat on them. Plus, they are predators, thus you would have to feed them meat to raise them, making them very inefficient food animals. And even if the person I�m explaining it to insists that the �food cats� could be strays, I point out that a cat would be very gamey and terribly salty.

And if that doesn�t stop the stupidity, I always mention that human flesh would probably work better. And oddly, that seems to stop the whole thing. Unless TC is around, and then it would probably branch into horrible humor.

I�m chewing stolen Double Bubble from TC�s office. I really don�t steal it, he has it out there, but I tend to drop Super Bubble [which I bought, not knowing the inferiority of it to Double Bubble] in handfuls into his candy tin, but he removes them and there is always some Double Bubble in there.

TC is out since his wife�s grandmother died.

I stopped writing a little while ago. I�m just sitting here.

Finally, the flavor is gone from my gum. I hate all that sugar.

Oh, and the Shoes That Will Not Die, I kind of broke them today. I had gotten on the scale [or strain meter] in the lab and I weighed less than I normally do by a few pounds. Well, I wasn�t wearing my boots is the thing, but I thought I could get my low score for the year by taking off my shoes and emptying my pockets. Nope, I was 2 lbs higher than last weeks low score. But when I was taking off my shoes, I was lazy and uncoordinated and I didn�t unlace them and so I pushed the sole down with my other foot to take off the left shoe, and pulled the sole off somewhat.

So, no more wearing these when it rains.

I hope it�s blistering hot outside. It�s barely 70 in here and my vent is closed.

Oh, and TC, I stole some of your Mylanta too. You know, it�s called that because they make it in Mylanta, Georgia. [That�s a joke, son]

The Microsoft guys are pretty pathetic to put Mylanta in the spell check data. Perhaps they are stressed too.

In 2 hrs, I�ll be in the surgeon�s office.

Princess Fluffy has had one of these things in her hand and they cut it out. It took her about three weeks to get it back to normal.

I type often. And with much vigor and speed.

Oh, well. I better eat.