Things are like that because I choose to be self-sufficient. If I can’t do it on my own, then I have no business doing it. By mutual agreement we have our own bank accounts, pay our own bills, split mutual costs like mortgage and utilities down the middle, and otherwise maintain what is the individual’s as the individual’s and the collective’s as the collective’s.
This isn’t to say we don’t help each other out. But I elect at this time to help myself.
A quote I stumbled upon in seeking’s diary in an entry made many months ago: A weed is no more than a flower in disguise — James Lowell.
Looks like I’m going back for more tests – a bone scan and a chest scan. They found an “irregularity” on the MRI and can’t rule out a carcinoma. It isn’t likely, but it isn’t impossible either. The area is probably just a nodule of hepatic regeneration; when a liver gets as bad as mine…
Yesterday I thought I was going to have an early day at work. I was literally just packing up my desk when the head of another department came up to my office. After 45 minutes of him chewing me out (during which I said virtually nothing because he wouldn’t let me get a word in)…
Apparently the cats have either discovered a litterbox with a wormhole that transports poo to an alternate universe, or I’ve got three cats with delayed gut transit. All of this morning’s leavings (and there wasn’t that much of it) had packed hair and nothing else in it. Everybody’s lactulose/kristalose dosages get increased.
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…
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