Coming Clean

Here's the deal.  I don't like not telling you things, internet.  Because I told you when I was depressed and I told you when I failed midterms and I told you when I cried in my car all by myself listening to Coldplay.  So here it is, a big pile of throw-up of all the things I haven't been telling you.

I had a cancer scare (My first instinct was to capitalize cancer.  Ew.).  I mean, not really.  I have this enlarged lymph node in my neck.  When I went to the doctor they were like, oh that could be lymphoma.  I was like, it's not lymphoma, I've had it for about a year now, it's not lymphoma otherwise I would feel more cancerous than I currently do.  So one Cat Scan with intravenous stuff that makes you feel like you have to pee, two utra-sounds on my neck, like 7 blood samples, one out-patient procedure (biopsy), and five months later, I am now officially cancer-free.  And life returns to - oh wait this had no impact on my life except for being part of the reason I've made the trek home so often lately.  And now I have a lovely scar on my neck that sometimes really freaks me out. because I'm squeamish. 


Check.


Oh, I got a retail job part time.  I have never had a job like this before, and I never plan to do it again.  it's kind of a thing I want to do though, is have an entry-level, just-above-minimum-wage job.   Because I am old-fashioned, and I want to remember why I'm getting an education that frequently breaks my back.  And I always think of myself as one of humble beginnings and I can't take that too seriously if my first job was a cushy office deal that was handed to me.  Which it was, but now I know what actual humble beginnings are like just a teeeeeeny bit more.  (As I write this I have a look of disgust on my face because I have been blessed with so much and I sound redonkulous.)

Check.

I got a cold.  Not very exciting, but it's part of the reason why I haven't blogged.  I feel pretty normal as of today, but I've been in a fog since Saturday.

Check.

And lastly, I gave myself a bad bang cut last week.  There are two rules to a good self-bang cut.  1.  I have to think that I need a bang cut for at least a week before I do it.  and 2.  I can't be in a rush when I do it.  I think I broke both of the rules, and wait a minute YOU DON'T CARE.

Check.

Haha.  This whole blogging thing is great.  You don't care at all.  Maybe about the cancer thing you do, but that's probably the one that I cared about the least.

Well.  What do you do?


Picture?

17 chins at midnight at the library last night.  I might be failing all my classes.  I might be lacking any desire to change that.  These are just mights, only time will tell.