Okay, so, after being careful not to look into the woods last week, I took a walk this week, still keeping my eyes firmly on the path.
And stepped on a snake. I don't think it's poisonous. But we're sending it to the lab to be sure.
okay, okay. there's a certain point at which a metaphor exists solely to give you a headache.
I was, in truth, taking a walk on my beloved trail when I got the phone call. Damn iPhone. Appointment with a doctor tomorrow at 8:20 am, biopsy at 9:00.
I'm not too worried, as long as I keep on my rational head. My mom had the same ezakkle thing back in the 80's, and all was fine.
It's the Night Before, though, and occasionally my rational head falls off my body, so blindly, I stumble around, and sometimes, rather than putting my rational head back on, I pick up my biggest-fears head and put it on, kinda like when you get dressed in the dark and accidentally put on one black shoe and one blue shoe. Not that I've ever done that before. Anyway, you can't prove it.
And my biggest fears head brings up all those other experiences we've had, the ones that resulted in, "I'm sorry, but it's malignant ..."
The BFF-DRE thinks that, just like when you do jury-duty time, you get a certain period of time where they don't even call you, putting in cancer-time should earn you a credit. I vote for that.
Anyway, The Boy is about to come home from Band Fish Camp and then the entire family must, by law, dance like crazy to "School's Out," as is our tradition on the last day of school, which today was. So I need to go take off this head, which frankly, doesn't fit very well anyway, and screw my rational head back on.
I'll be sure to hold it on very tight during the dancing.