Milhous’s newest thing is to go outside with Edsel, where I watch them nervously from the back door, and
after each other around the back yard. Milhous gets a bottle-brush tail and Edsel smiles like a big huge giant baffoon.
I think Milhous was a good addition to this house.
I had my mammogram yesterday. No word yet. WHAT GIVES? It’s been 18 hours! My bra stopped lasting.
At my mammogram place, they have lockers to put your, you know, shirt while you’re in that cape. Each locker has a famous woman’s name on it, so you remember where yours was. I chose Lady Bird Johnson, seeing that we First Lady’d here yesterday. The other women in the waiting room were Calamity Jane and Coco Chanel. I asked. I feel like in real life those two wouldn’t have had much to say to one another. Maybe Lady Bird, being a politician’s wife, would have been good at finding their common ground.
Anyway, so now I wait.
I hate this part.
When I’m anxious like this, I sort of curl into a mental ball and obsess. I’m certain that’s the healthiest way to handle it. Oh, I Google. I think. I imagine. I delight all and sundry.
Anyone who tried to talk to me yesterday, on the inside I was all, what what WHAT? Why you bug? I’m tryina obsess. GOD.
…I just noticed Edsel growling, but in his “Blu stuck under this thing, mom” growl. It’s more of a plaintive moan. I see that Milhous has gone under the footstool and Eds wants him out. I just went to check that Milhous wasn’t horrified that something 86 times his size is sticking its snout at him, but Milhous is under there purring, so.
Yes. Definitely a good edition. If you’re Edsel. Or Milhous.
Let me go check my phone. Maybe they called while I was in the shower. At 7 a.m. Yeah. That sounds likely.
No calls. No emails.
I did, however, notice I left a plate next to the bed last night. I got hungry about 9:00 while I was reading, and got some cheese and crackers. Why so round.
I also just captured this on film. While I was putting the plate in the sink.
Do you think enough time has passed that I can check my phone again? Do you think there are women out there who have alternate seat cushions for holidays such as Christmas? Like, they put the blue ones up somewhere and replace them with red and green? Do you?
…I checked my phone. No new messages. Also, they said they’d send a letter anyway. So the only reason I’m checking my phone is that last year they called, said you need to come back. Not to be obsessive or anything, but they called two hours and 24 minutes after my original appointment last year. You shoulda SEEN me yesterday two hours and 24 minutes after my appointment. I was waiting for the ball to drop in Times Square. Without the joy, but with the chattering teeth.
I’d better get to work. My boss, current/fmr./current again, is considering Stitch Fix, as she had given it up for a time. “You could ask your readers if I should get special boxes,” she said, likely trying to distract me.
Imagine having to supervise June.
“Special boxes?” I asked, while Googling Millions of Ways to Die Waiting for Mammogram results.
“Yeah. You can get, for example, just pants.”
Oooo, just pants!
Or she could get all date-night clothes. Or My-Corporate-Job clothes. I have to look on Stitch Fix and see what all the choices are, then set up a poll for us.
But first I have to obsess.
Talk to you!
Handling it gracefully,
UPDATE: Just got an email. All is well with mammogram! I knew it. It was my positive thinking, and my ability to put it out of my mind.