a) write less about my dad
b) do a blog overhaul (I am sick of the darkness of this place)
c) stop drinking so much (recent photos of Anna N have made be actually fear for my future)
d) swallow pride and see a headologist (read: therapist)
e) throw away (goodwill, I know, I know) everything I have that does not fit)
f) start writing again (non-blog content)
g) make my blog public again
That last one will be difficult to do any time soon. I asked the LSA (leukemia people) what the expect out of my dad's prognosis and they all agreed that the crash will pretty quick once it starts, but WHEN it starts will be anyone's guess. After the, uh, crash, I have to cope with THAT, and then I have to cope with the aftermath of funeral and the reading of the will. Any or all of these could prove too much for me - as in too much "oh no fucking way" for me to NOT blog about. With all that uncertainly, one thing is certain: when the blog is public again, much of the hateful content I've written about my dad's doctor and my dad's wife will be deleted. There's enough rage out there in the big wide world without me spreading more.
So, uh, if you have a favorite rage filled entry of mine, you might want to screen shot it or something, because it is likely to go away.
And just for fun, here's a picture of me. Or rather my hand around a glass of beer. If you look carefully, you'll be able to see the mortar dust under my finger nails. (And yes, it was taken last weekend at my Dad's - and yes, I have washed my hands since then. More than once. Don't ever say I ain't a lady).