So what?

After noting my recent posting (in)frequency, I am forced to ask: who cares?

Since June, I have travelled 12,000 miles. And I did not add a gratuitous zero. Following a summer of marrying off two friends (My new title: mercenary bridesmaid. Man, have I got it down. Only three more to go, and Susan/Brian are in January), road-trippin' with Greg and the 'rents to Virginia, Baltimore and D.C., visiting Kendra in Boston (with a 6-hour side trip via Greyhound to see Katie and Jon in Montreal), Kristin, Shelly, Susan and my grandma in Raleigh, meeting Greg's aunt and uncle in Orlando and driving from the Atlantic to the Pacific in a matter of two weeks, I feel strangely normal. I mean, my life is no longer absolutely crazy.

Hence the lack of info.

Sure, I could launch into a tirade against Time Warner Cable for STILL NOT SERVICING OUR APARTMENT.

Yes, strides have been made. I was on the phone listening to the same hold music for 1 hour and 1 minute yesterday afternoon. I could also catalog my hour-by-hour activity at work (see pic below, which was taken on a Saturday and is therefore not an actual representation of my normal work demeanor), but then you'd fall asleep for sure. It is true that Blue Cross has STILL not accepted my application, though I submitted it in late August (what is it with these big companies not wanting to take my hard-earned dollars in exchange for minimal services?) and I finally got my lovely Xterra some new oil and hand washed today for the low, low price of $10 (Wednesday special!!). But other than that, my existence has seemingly hit the downward slope of the year.

HEMATOMA UPDATE: The knot, golf-ball sized now, is still present and quite firm, but the discoloration has faded to reveal frighteningly pale skin. Ahhh, the true self shines through. And don't make any jokes about shining...I know I'm borderline albino. Kim, a nurse I met at church Sunday, says it could be another month before it is gone. Gigi agrees.

Tonight, I cooked about 2 pounds of chicken. People say that it's hard to cook for one. I say it's hard to cook for 100. But I digress. My advice: cook for 8, freeze for 7, eat for one. Easy enough. Tomorrow, I will drop off at Goodwill the misbehaving TV and a suitcase full of clothes that came to California but will never leave. Making small steps, feeling more settled, more normal.

OK, I would never claim nor aspire to normalcy. But to the casual observer, I seem unspectacular.

At least I'm in one place for more than two weeks. I'll try to generate some news or think of something really cool to write next time.