Rainy Saturday
Valentine's Day has come and gone. I did, indeed, get a call from my sweetheart. And I got some beautiful flowers from Tom...signed, "Your Secret Pal." He had me going for awhile. And Fran brought a beautiful flower he'd grown...oh and a box of candy from Nancy. I felt very much like a sweetheart.
I go to the Pulmonologist on Monday and can't wait. I just hope against hope that he will be able to give me a definitive answer about what's going on with me. It's not good, I'm pretty sure of that. But I can't stand not knowing for sure. I've always had to face my demons head on. The lurking over my shoulder is more frightening and disconcerting than whatever the truth may be.
I'm spending part of the day trying to organize my work space. I live in this little bitty apartment, which is barely big enough for my furniture, much less all these art supplies I have. What I really need is to clear out all the furniture and replace it with a big long work table and shelves...but then I'd have no place for anyone to visit. I don't allow much of that anyway, but occasionally I have to be cordial. So I've started by tossing even more of my precious books. This is about my 4th go round and it pains me, but then I'm admittedly a bit of a hoarder. I have to rein myself in or I'd be a full-blown hoarder with a diagnosable disorder. Hmmmm. So I guess it won't hurt to get rid of a few more books...those I'll probably never read again.
I go to the Pulmonologist on Monday and can't wait. I just hope against hope that he will be able to give me a definitive answer about what's going on with me. It's not good, I'm pretty sure of that. But I can't stand not knowing for sure. I've always had to face my demons head on. The lurking over my shoulder is more frightening and disconcerting than whatever the truth may be.
I'm spending part of the day trying to organize my work space. I live in this little bitty apartment, which is barely big enough for my furniture, much less all these art supplies I have. What I really need is to clear out all the furniture and replace it with a big long work table and shelves...but then I'd have no place for anyone to visit. I don't allow much of that anyway, but occasionally I have to be cordial. So I've started by tossing even more of my precious books. This is about my 4th go round and it pains me, but then I'm admittedly a bit of a hoarder. I have to rein myself in or I'd be a full-blown hoarder with a diagnosable disorder. Hmmmm. So I guess it won't hurt to get rid of a few more books...those I'll probably never read again.
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