For the last few weeks I’ve been putting off a project–writing a paper about marketing strategy for the swing dance event I’m working with. I’d planned to do it a couple weeks ago, but then the flu struck and struck hard. Anyway, the event is a few weeks away, so any marketing ideas I have are about to become moot, at least for this year. So today was the day I wrote the paper–I started this evening and worked for six hours on it. I still need to proofread everything, but the paper is done. It’s eleven pages long, almost five thousand words. This is why I’ve been putting this project off for so long–my brain is bleeding.

I just told my friend Matt about how I spent the day, and he said, “Have you blogged yet?” I said, “No.” He said, “Are you going to blog about procrastination?”

Ha. Ha. Ha.

This afternoon I finally heard from the immunologist’s office. They told me what additional bloodwork and tests they need, so next week when I see my internist I’ll be giving more blood. Also, they’re sending me a “new patient” package, and I have an appointment the first week in April to see the immunologist (provided the tests do indeed reveal a problem).

I guess five weeks isn’t that far away, all things considered.

Y’all, I’m completely nervous, worried, and paranoid about what the tests will reveal. I’m already planning my own funeral. (Say nice things about me. Please bring casseroles to my family. My dad likes chocolate cake.) Still, I keep telling myself that whatever is wrong has been wrong for a while, and it won’t do any good to bury my head in the sand or run away from it. Hell, if I can handle being sick, I can handle knowing WHY I’m sick.

So now we wait.

I need to wrap this up. I’m going out of town to a dance tomorrow, and it’s currently after midnight and I still have things to do. I’d like to proof that paper. Also, I’d like to take a shower, since I’m beginning to smell myself. This is one of the downsides to feeling poorly and not having many reasons to get out of the house–you don’t bathe. Frankly, it’s disgusting, but at least no one else is here to smell me. (I’m single.) As my dad says, “Such is life.” You put something off, and then you do it–you’re sick for the longest time, then hopefully you get some answers–you take a shower, or you don’t–you feel the way you feel. If you can, you try to accept life for what it is, with all its imperfections, atrocities, mysteries, and wonders.