So today was my second mammogram of the year. I have a feeling I should've asked the question - is this a good idea, doing this again in just two short months? but I was a little nervous and that meant I was talkative, and the ladies in the Mammography Center were nice but not interested in my long-ass stories, so I didn't ask.
It took much less time this time around, but it was a bit less comfortable, if such a thing is imaginable. The lady performing my mammogram (are these people ever male?) was exceptionally nice, though I couldn't understand at first her accent when she was telling me not to breathe. I kept wondering, wait? Breathe? or not breathe? But it seemed to go well, and she was happy with her initial scan of the images because she let me leave without re-doing anything. Which was good.
I just want to state for the record: I like my breasts. But that doesn't mean anything - my liking them doesn't mean I'm about to be punished or taught a lesson. There cannot be any such thing as retribution for liking your god-given gifts, now can there? I mean, life is not "The Princess Bride." It doesn't mean that because I think they are good (and let's be honest, I need to lose 20 pounds, I'm crosseyed and pigeon-toed and my hair looks good about once a week and my eyebrows are too thick and long and I still shop entirely too much at the Gap-so my thinking they're okay is just fine and not the work of a vain person; not that vanity is a bad thing, all the time, I guess, I'm not judging vain people either) they will be taken away from me or disfigured or, um, you know: scarred or something. That is not why women get breast cancer. It does not work that way. And you know, there's that whole thing wherein you have to say to yourself, I am not my breasts (or my hair or my waist or my mole or my whatever).
I know this.
I know this.
I know this,
I know this.
Rational, Irene. Rational.
Afterwards I went to Walgreens and bought some facial lotion, some eyeliner, and something else I've forgotten about, and then I treated my friend Bo to lunch at Jongewaard's Bake N' Broil, a restaurant I have been wanting to visit since a co-worker brought quiche from there a couple of weeks ago (awesome quiche). It's near his house, and it was truly yummy. We didn't have anything miraculous that couldn't be had anywhere else (I had a turkey sandwich and bowl of clam chowder, he had a roast beast sandwich and fries), but then we decided to have pie, and that's when things got interesting.
If you like chocolate, I highly recommend the chocolate brownie pie. It's decadent, heavenly and - dare I say it - yummy.
After that I signed up me and Patrick for a gym.
After that I went to Target and used some gift cards on implements of house-keeping and cleaning.
After that I came home and had a beer. One can only be so good for so long.
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