Work.
Prepared the first class of a new course.
Made an appointment with my GP, then the dentist for Thursday.
First, however, I rushed home for our appointment with the social worker from the boys' school.
The school requested intervention for Son#1, because of The Daring Escapes.
The husband, myself, and Son#1 have moved on, and I wish the school would too.
Guess we are tired of problems.
Easy sailing calls my name.
Son#1 is getting an IQ test next week, to see whether he's gifted or not.
We don't care - we just want him to be a happy kid.
No more, no less.
Then a visit to the GP, who turned out to be an insecure GP-to-be with no answers.
My mouth is one, large burning ulcer, my glands and face swollen, but she doesn't know why.
My infection markers are low, so I don't have leukemia, as the other GP last Wednesday apparently thought (what the hell???), and no diabetes.
I feel a bit despondent nonetheless.
Things like 'oral cancer' start swirling through my synapses.
All those stupid years of heavy smoking and going out till the wee hours of the morning.
Not knowing is not good.
Ignorance ain't bliss.
Came home to sunshine, cooked dinner, calm kids, and stupendous wine.
The husband is a god.
In South Africa, my father took his first shower in 8 weeks.
Risky business, but he loved it.
It's nearly bedtime and I still need to wash my hair.
But I'm thinking bugger that.
Nobody ever got fired for straggly locks, methinks.
.
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