...
Just a tiny bit.
I was standing at Peggy and Jim's mirror trying to decide which of my skin freezing booboos I should get rid of... like I have some sort of choice in the matter. That's all I remember of it.
But I needed to get up in time to call the court and make sure I had all the department switching and scheduling times right before I go ahead in the final push to produce something that gets through to a judge that this is no kidding. Then I had to go to town to get some gas and some more cream for my visits to Jim's fancy coffee machine — which I've taken to calling "Hal" and when I'm near it one needs to refer to me as "Dave" — and some steaks for us to eat tonight... and then I returned to my swimming head project.
I was concentrating and absently scratching at one of my booboos, when, to my horror, I found it was not serious about flaking off me. Only half of it was. There was blood involved. And then I found myself standing at Peggy and Jim's mirror not needing to decide which of my skin freezing booboos to get rid of....
Lab results back today too. Booboo on scalp not cancer. Mere pain in ass... or brain.
Berit's ankle is still broken.
Don't do that. Okay?
Cut this shit out.
pipe up any time....
