While I know I need to sit down and write a few things, I do feel as though today is a journal sort of day. This is my version of a bullet journal.
- Good news for my mom – or at least, as we’ve put it to one another, promising news. Her CT scan came back as feeble. This apparently is good and means things are not progressing, cancerwise, but the doctor will explain more on Friday. I do not want to start understanding things on my own because I’m liable to start thinking things are fine and then, then, I’ll be in for it if they’re not. Suffice to say, promising.
- I also spoke today with my mentor who got that breakfast scheduled with the woman who can do something, one way or another, for my so-called career path. I’ve sent off my resume to the woman I described yesterday, too, and now I’m learning more about what that might entail if I were to work at the same company as she does and it’s completely not what I was anticipating, but it’s also, likely, something that could be workable, too. They have a gym. And health insurance and…
- It was a great conversation. My mentor, wow, I just bubble over with gratitude that she gives a damn about what happens to me and wants to see me installed some place that allows me to write along with getting my bills paid. I felt like the best parts of the old days where I was being seen as a colleague, an equal, a friend who needed to be heard. It was genuine. I like, it turns, out a few genuine things in this world.
- I was also given a free, beautiful pullover. And crabapple jam, so…
- I also had a memorably horrific pizza today, which, as some rolled-over stress from Job A for a prodigious headache, is lodged in my brain forever with a tag for Nausea Trigger Par Exemple. It was, of course, disappointing coffee shop’s new restaurant venture and I went in, distractedly, knowing I had to figure out some place to get food so that the headache didn’t go into migraine territory. I thought it only fair to give it the ol’ college try. First bad news was there was no ice. NO ICE?! My heart was broken from the get-go. It would Lazarus me back from the dead to have some ice in a glass. As that wasn’t available, it was just me and some lukewarm water and what I thought was a pizza on its way. It was, instead, a cracker with no discernable color on the bottom, just warmed cheese and luke warm Italian meats. The sauce was the only bearable part and the thought of it now encourages me to retch just like all the rest. I…don’t think these people make good food.
- Somewhere in the mid-range future, a kitten is waiting.
- There’s a new episode of Great British Bake-Off to watch, I’ve also discovered where the wedding I will never have is required to be held, and isn’t that exciting?