A one hup

For about five minutes before going to work I was looking frantically for my book, finally remembering I’d left it at work so I wouldn’t have to worry about bringing it.

Good luck with that.

Then I forgot my food for the night after having driven just far enough that I couldn’t go back for it. Yeah, I had a little freak out there.

And immediately after pulling over at the Don Mills Library to make this call (because, of course, it’s illegal to talk on your cell phone and drive unless you have a hands free device) to my brother to get him to please fetch my food to me, I’m besieged by people absolutely determined to keep me from exiting the parking lot for as long as possible.

As is ever the case, a stressful commute to work. I shut off the radio, too mad and too mad at myself for being mad for music.

Once I got to work I allowed myself the luxury (and at that point, necessity) of slowing down, taking some calming breaths.

I got to read some comics which, on the whole, weren’t great, but had some moments that made me smile and got me back on the right track. Who doesn’t love seeing the Flash school Superman?

As a practicing hypochondriac (not that I’m always going to the doctor- I worry about whatever charges I’d earn for a look over that yields no info, plus I only think I’m a hypochondriac because of those sidelong, judgemental glances my doctor keeps giving me for going to his office. Yeesh, it’s been well over a year, I’m sure, since my last visit. It just kills me how unhelpful the guy was about my toes.) I’ve been pretty worried about this brown mark on my left hand, situated on the principle callous under the middle finger that seemed to suddenly appear out of nowhere three weeks ago or so.

Finally (FINALLY!) I noticed a peeling at the edge of the murky mark and so literally removed a good piece of my worries from my person. My hand looks like it’s supposed to again, I’m quite relieved. I figure that one of my early hypotheses was correct, that it was a burn mark from cooking (just before noticing the mark I’d burned myself in that area… makes sense to tie the two events together) and that the reason it looked weird and took so long to reveal itself as temporary, was due to it being on, again, a calloused bit of skin that was happy to chill out.

Is this gross to talk about? Maybe it’s gross, I don’t know. I just feel better is all.

What IS gross, however, is this newspaper coverage of the death of Gaddafi, especially in the Sun. There’s no way I needed to see a photo of the mans corpse. If this is the kind of coverage Bin Laden would have received (and yes, it obviously is) then I’m glad such footage was held back from exploitation.

I’d rather not be so viscerally reminded of how vicious we people can be.

I used a lot of alliteration today. Sweet.