Not Over Yet

I seem to have stopped writing regular blog entries.

Last week I told myself I was just busy, but it's not really true.

I think I've just run out of things to write. I'm sick of writing about having cancer. I'm sick of being a cancer survivor. I'm sick of remembering how hard July and August were this year, and I'm sick of noticing what is still hard now that it is Novemeber. I'm so sick of pink ribbons that I'm ready to scream when I see them.

As far as the other (lesser) whammy, I've made one serious attempt to get a part time job, and haven't had any response from the company. I'm still living off my savings and feel a little guilty about that. Maybe I should be out there job hunting, but I really don't want to.

I still feel like there's lots more to this adventure that I haven't shared here. I really want this to be a complete account. So, soon, I'll have to buckle down and tell you more about:

1. the whole struggle with finding a lawyer who would talk to me about how I got fired
2. the struggle with trying to get unemployment payments and why I finally gave up
3. the struggle to get short term disability payments and why I finally gave up
4. how weird it is to explore romantic intimacy in my post-mastectomy body
5. why I'm still crying in the mornings
6. the rest of the story about biopsy #1
7. what my physical therapist said about how my ribs stick out of my chest and
8. my current dilema about more surgery.

But I don't want to write about it today. Today I want to go buy a hook and some yarn so I can crochet a hat for C. I want to go on a long hike somewhere beautiful. I want to curl up in the backyard hammock with my sweetie and pretend we don't have anything serious that we ought to be talking about. I want to figure out what to do about my hair so that I can look cute tonight because I know we're going to run into freinds I haven't seen in years. I want to eat the chicken salad I made yesterday with raisins, cucumbers, apple, red onion, yoghurt, mayonaise and (of course) chicken.

I don't want to write about cancer and joblessness any more than I wanted to get cancer and become jobless in the first place.

And it seems to me, that no one in their right mind would want to read about such things anyway. Go have a nice Saturday. That's what I'm going to do.