Oh, is the reply, eyes widening and leaning forward, do you have asthma too?
Influenza. Completely wiped out. "Is she drinking?" Mom nods. "Pop, but she's drinking."
Yeah, big sister says, but she gets Mountain Dew. I had to drink Sprite. Pause. Was I not supposed to say that?
I'm still here, O Best Beloved. I'm still a pediatrician for the month. But I'm completely overwhelmed by the speed at which selling-a-house, buying-a-house, moving-across-the-state and all the associated crud that goes with it is happening. Going out to $new_city Saturday to look at homes. Bank is crunching numbers to see what we can afford. Tomorrow down to Indy to talk financial aid with the financial aid guy, get my jacket, work out my last level 3 competency, and have a celebratory lunch with my advisor. Friday is my day off, and Angel is making me a honey-do list for packing.
My laptop is back from Best Buy, after two months. They shipped it back, without telling us it was done, and left it sitting on the front porch. $2500 worth of laptop. And when I opened it, the power supply they shipped with it was the wrong one. I'm going to flog someone with a power supply.
It all happens so fast. I want to read and write and emphasize and comment and all of that, and I have simply not had the mind for any more than reading. Although I did write two poems that I'm not convinced are any good, so I must be on track.
And that, O Best Beloved, is how it is.