Yirrrrr.
I had a shit day yesterday. If stress was a foodstuff, it would be a giant eisbein wrapped in ostrich hide, marinated in crude oil, dusted in buck droppings, and presented in a Tupperware.
Tough and tasty.
I have upgraded to a new work computer, just as well, the other one completely fucked out, pre-presentation of course.
Well, the admin. The sheer manual manifestations that arise from transferring data, downloads, tools, applications, bookmarks, DATA CARDS onto a new machine. Good God.
My 3G card wouldn’t work, and after repeated installing-uninstalling [what a jol], I was on the phone to tech support overseas for 2 hours, and another hour spent on the line to MTN.
Who actually proved helpful in the end, after they taught me what to ‘configure and disable.’ They couldn’t do it themselves, they tried, and still endless gnashing of teeth and mutterings of ‘Fucking thing isn’t fucking working for crying in a piss bucket.’
I got home and configured all sorts of things by myself – God knows what they are now – and, eureka, suddenly, it fucking worked.
Generally though, a day governed by Crappy O’Crappyson and his Molotov cocktail-wielding minions.
Did get a facial though. That was the highlight of the entire day. But I also asked about this funny thing that’s on my cheek. It looks like a mole, but it hasn’t been there forever. She said if it hasn’t been there for long, I must go and get it checked out by a dermo. “Because it could be cancerous.”
Oh that’s just fucking peachy.
I’m scared of the dentist and I’m scared of the dermatologist. They fix things, but it usually hurts like a bitch.
So. Forgive me for dragging my heels, but is she going to dig out my…whatever it is? And what happens if she sees Sally?
Sally is the mole I’ve had since I was born, that sits in perfect symmetry between my noombies, Hannah and Elizabeth.
Sally’s been around a long time. No-one’s just going to just cut her off. My body.
So am a bit peeved that this may be a life or death situation, this thing on my face. And now I’m going to worry, and there’s probably nothing wrong with it. I mean you can hardly notice it.
Jason on a journey, mate. As Dove aptly said. Yeah. So.
Mini-break holiday starts tonight.
I’ll think I’ll kick it off by going for a little mini-bender with Doc, Dove and company after work.
And hopefully, in doing so, man-up. Enough to go to the bloody dermatologist.
After Mozambique.
10 comments:
Dermo's suck, but I agree - you gotta go. My mom often has these little malignant moles scraped off her skin - from years of sun abuse in her younger days. Ive become pretty paranoid about my skin, moles specifically. Subsequently I have learnt to accept that my legs are almost transparent and that my friends will rip me about about for the rest of my life.
Secret - yeah my gran (who grew up in the Seychelles) and who had a lot of sun exposure has also had MOUNDS cut out of her skin.
It's amazing how we start to care about sun after tanning ourselves black in our misspent youth eh?
Now it's hat, SPF 30, shade all the way.
Have to mentally prepare for this dermo!
Ag shame and are you still pining for your wart?
From my experience, dermatologists don't like to cut out moles and bits of skin unnecessarily. So get it checked out and I'm sure it will be fine.
Hannah secretly dislikes Elizabeth.
Boomkind - When Yves St LeWart was fried off....a piece of me was fried off :)
paul - I hope you're right china, I hope you're right!
icepick - and they're both jealous of Sally.
Between you and me, Hannah is ever so slightly less endowed than Elizabeth.
I knew it...sibling rivalry
icepick - even though they secretly love each other :)
Miss Peas - no new reading material?
its official.. Peas has flu brought on by dragon pressure valves an tangerine orange!
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