Kir

The Professor needed the kitchen last night to do some preparation for tonight’s lamb Vindaloo meal. “The cookbook says one hour prep, one hour cooking,” he informed me. We both figured it would take him a little longer. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 5:10 p.m. – I arrive home. The Professor is already in the kitchen. I take that…

OK, I know I’m “old”. I know I’m out of it. But there has been an influx of a new word in these parts. A quick and incomplete search of diarists’ names turns up (Dates in parentheses are first entries for some of these diaries): EmoGirlCrys emoposer brokenemofaery (Nov) EMO22 neemo80 EmoGrlKym687 (Dec) emoandrea OhSoxEmo…

Only two more days until my next paracentesis. At the rate I’m building up fluid, I won’t be surprised if Dr. Liver wants to move me to weekly tap-outs. It would certainly make me feel better if he did, but if I start losing that much time at work I might as well just go…

Yesterday the Socialist rinsed the salt off from underneath my car for me. The road crews have gone absolutely crazy with laying down salt this year. Many of the cars on the road (mine included) look like they’ve been dipped in powdered sugar from all the road salt adhering to them. I have to say…

Still feeling unsettled, disconnected. A bit of this may simply have to do with my energy level, which is abysmal today. There is a short, seven step rise into the main part of our company’s building, and today was the first time I ever needed to rest part of the way up the stairs. My…

Yup, Frannie. I returned to school at 36. I wanted to be a veterinarian when I originally went to undergraduate school, but fouled up big time. I ended up changing majors from bio to psych, thereby making me effectively unemployable upon graduation. After all, what does a psych major do if they don’t go on…