I've come to the realization that the amount of stress in my life may be just a tad high.
Tuesday, I think I had a genuine panic attack.
I checked my bank balance after the long weekend (well, long for those who get federal bank holidays off), tried to subtract my mortgage payment, and the resulting large negative number almost made me faint. I went into overdrive: I immediately moved my tiny savings into my checking account, remembered my hoarded $100 bill from Christmas in my wallet, and begged a $200 loan from a coworker. I drove over to the credit union, slammed the money into the account. and was driving back, calculating how much food I had in the house....
....when my actual fore brain kicked in and gently reminded me that I had, in fact, paid the mortgage 2 weeks ago, right on schedule. I had made arrangements to pay my sales taxes out of this paycheck, along with covering some show fees, some supplies, and maybe some computer "reading" glasses. (Yes, I need "readers". I hate getting old.) Everything was fine, and what the hell was all the yelling about?
So, I went back to work, apologized to and thanked my friend; promised her I'd have her cash back in the morning, Then I spent the rest of the afternoon shaking and weird.
That evening my gynecologist called. She'd been having a hard time getting a specialist to look at my results. The cells were "atypical", and she wasn't totally convinced that it was just a lymph node flare-up. So, I'm seeing her specialist, an oncologist, on Monday, and he's going to go over my options. He seems to think that the lab wasn't rigorous enough in their cell testing. I have no idea what to expect.
I had lunch with dremiel
on Wednesday, which helped quite a bit.
Today was rainy and cold and gross and I haven't been getting enough sleep (surprise!) and so I've been feeling really down. But bingeing on 5 episodes of "Galavant" have helped. Plus ice cream.
Just gotta get through until Monday afternoon. Wish me luck?