In the airport

Several hours of sitting on my ass seems to have pounded my cyst into numbness. So all is pretty much well. After hustling from one end of the airport to the other after my plane landed a little late, I realized that I forgot that my shuttle left at 3 instead of 1, so while yea, I didn't miss the bus, I can't go to the 4 o'clock appointment at my doctor. The cell phone I bought with this trip in mind has proved more valuable than I could have imagined. In a few hours between Burbank and Seatac, I called my doctor to make an appointment, reschedule it (tommorrow morning) and let work know I'd be absent tommorrow.

So soon my travails shall be over, and I'll stop grossing you all out.

Last one for real.

Am home and happy.

As awful as it can be, I do get a masochistic joy out of being sick occasionally. It's an adventure, it gives me a chance to let people wait on me, and it makes me appreciate little things. In this case, reclining without pain. When I've fainted, I feel an overwhelming pleasure at lying on the floor. This is, undoubtedly, my body telling me to stay where blood can get to my head. But psychologically, it is the joy of total surrender of all control and responsibility, even the responsibility to maintain consciousness. This, of course, is dangerous. On my walk home, there were moments when I started to feel very slightly light-headed. I would have given anything to drop my bags and lie on the sidewalk, never to move again. Fortunately, I had a bottle of juice I sipped which returned my strength, and I had the willpower to slowly, patiently trudge home.



( cut for gross )

Amendment to gift offer

I should say that Keffy will be getting half of Corey's gift to me, as the other half was confiscated by TSA. Ha! However, I must still plot my revenge carefully.