Special Guest Author presents: "The Rest"

Preface

This is not Sara you are reading today.
Or tonight.
I suppose that the time of the reading is irrelevant...
The point is that this is Jeremy.  If you've read previous entries, you may have seen passing reference to me.  I'm the husband.  The significant other.  You're probably used to Sara's writing and her personality.  In order to make the change of voice slightly less jarring, we're going to have to get some things out of the way up front so that you have an idea of what you're dealing with when I'm driving the word machine; a few disclaimers, if you will.  Then you can't say I didn't warn you.
First off, I like parenthesis, footnotes(1), and ellipsis (the three dots when you trail off...)
I just used all three in their own explanation.  That's how much I like them.
Secondly, I am not normal.  I am wired in a weird way (that was a fun sentence to type).  I am able to operate on minimal sleep for extended periods of time.  It's a blessing and a curse.  I've been told that I am scary and intimidating until people get to know me (if I let them).  Once we get to the meat of the post, keep in mind that I am probably a few standard deviations from the mean.  Your results may vary.  Adjust cooking times for high altitude or lower wattage ovens.  If you feel like you don't get something, it's okay; there may not have been anything to get in the first place(2).
Thirdly, I grew up as a pessimist.  I got a little better.  I now (half-jokingly) refer to myself as a "bitter optimist."  Everything will work out fine in the end, but until then, it's gonna suck.  I'm working on it.
Finally, I have been over thinking this for too long (3).  Sara asked me to write a post awhile ago and I said yes and set dates to do it and they passed.  What exactly do I write?  Should I be lighthearted and funny?  Brutally honest?  Avoid certain topics altogether?  What do I even say?  In the end it came down to the fact that I just needed so sit down and do it.  So here I am.  Fasten your seat belts and return your tray tables to the full upright position.  Let's get into it.

The Rest

My wife has cancer.

Twice.

That probably qualifies me for membership in a pretty small (and mildly depressing) club.  Not a lot of people can say that.  Not a lot of people should ever have to say that.  At all.  Even once.

I am not the type to ask for help.  I'm almost literally impossible to take care of.  Just ask Sara.  But I will help you even if it means a horrible inconvenience to me.  You can ask a lot of people about that.  I am not sure why.  There are probably a number of reasons.  We can ask the psychiatrist later if you really want to...

I am going to explain this so you can see more of what happens in our life.  This is not for any attention or accolades for me.  I want no flattery.  If you want to help, help her.  This is the only way I know how to do things.

How do I cope with her illness (or disease, or infection, or whatever the correct way to say it is)?

I do the rest.

Some days, that means what it does in any "normal" relationship (4).  We both work on things together, like putting kids to bed, shopping, cleaning, or whatever.  However, there aren't a lot of normal days, at least not consecutively. Don't get me wrong; it's not bad all the time, by any means.  Things are getting better.  The fact that she can be at home and do treatment is great.  It's nothing like having her quarantined for a week because she's literally emitting enough radiation that it would cause harm to people.  We can talk about that week some other time. 

When she decides to go ahead with the treatment of shots three times a week, but can't bring herself to do the actual shot part, I do that even though I hate myself every time.  When we have to cancel a vacation because she has to spend a week in the hospital, I print a picture of some scenery to tape on the window and we make s'mores in the stupid hospital so she doesn't feel as bad about us missing our trip.  When she has no energy and I get home from work and she's just reading and it looks like some type of snack cracker grenade blew up in my living room, I clean it up.  When the kids are on her last nerve at noon, I try to find a way to get home early or send someone over.  When I have a brutally long and exhausting day, I take all 4 kids to the grocery store when I get home so that she can have a break.  When she spends the night in fevered delusion and has chills and muscle spasms, I sit up and do what she needs and don't sleep at all so that she can sleep a little.  When kids wake up at night scared or sick, I get up with them.  I sleep on floors next to beds, I go grocery shopping at 2am, I pretend like it doesn't hurt my feelings when she's upset and yells at me that I don't understand because I don't have cancer because I know she didn't mean it and she's just frustrated and I even type stuff like that even though I know she's going to read this.

If our roles were reversed, she'd do it for me.

So no matter how little or how much it is, that's what I do.

The rest.

Footnotes

(1) I couldn't figure out how to use superscript for the footnote numbers, so they're italicized in parenthesis.  Superscript is when they look like exponents.  I think Hamlet is also a super script.  I use footnotes for things that started in parenthesis and got to be too long and disrupted the flow of the sentence so much that they had to be relegated to the bottom of the page with only a number acting as a literary teleporter allowing them access to the body of the writing.  That's not a very concise or easy to follow explanation, is it?  Sorry.
(2) I make inside jokes and references with no one around that will get them but me.  It's for my own amusement.  I have to spend a lot of time with me, so I might as well enjoy my company.
(3) Is over-thinking hyphenated or not?  Am I over thinking this?
(4) I don't like the word "normal" in general, but specifically in regard to relationships.  There are so many variables and so many abnormal things that go into a relationship, that I feel like "normal" is just a relative term and what's normal for one couple may not be for another... It's like when people ask me which video game system is better (I'm an avid gamer, by the way).  "Better" means something different to everyone.

My Fairy Godmother

So, it's after midnight and I'm still up.  I really should be in bed.  But today is a shot day.  And I am scared, terrified, anxious...to get one.

Monday night was HORRIBLE.

 I had been off my shots for about two weeks so I could recover from my wicked sinus infection I got the week of Christmas.  I did take my Tylenol two hours before the shot and then my husband set his alarm to go off two hours later (12:00 a.m.) so I could take another dose of Tylenol.

Those were the best two hours of sleep I've had in forever.  And the last of the night.

Fever, muscle spasms, chills, cramps, migraine, sensitive skin from the fever, too hot, too cold, so very sore...

Sounds fun, right?  Five hours of fun...

Five hours of wondering if these cancer treatments were worth it.  Five hours of wondering why I was lucky enough to get two different and totally unrelated cancers in my short 37 years of life.  Five hours of wondering why the damn Tylenol wasn't working.  Five hours of wondering why they haven't come up with a better treatment for cancer patients that wouldn't involve all of these difficult symptoms.  Five hours of hoping that all my kids would sleep, not wake up from a bad dream or because they needed a snuggle so they didn't have to see me like this.  Five hours of fluctuating between anger, tears and sadness.  Five hours of feeling guilty as my husband stayed up with me to help me get through it even though he had to be at work early in the morning.

Then, five hours later, 5:00 a.m. on a Tuesday morning...RELIEF.

It was as if Cinderella's fairy godmother came over, sang bippity boppity boo and waved her magical wand over me and magically my fever broke, my muscles relaxed, and sleep finally claimed me.

Personally, I would rather have the flexible glass slippers w/o the cancer please.

Oh - and the dress.

But here's the thing my fairy godmother did give me that I wanted...all four of my children were as quiet as mice as they all slept through the night.  Miracle.  Seriously.  The Tylenol finally shared the burden of my symptoms and alleviated enough of them so I could sleep.  A sense of peace and accomplishment accompanied by a smile with the thought, "I did it.  I CAN DO THIS."  And my favorite that she has given me, of course...my prince.  For two hours he massaged my back, my bum and my legs to relieve the pain.  He curled up beside me when I got cold and then took the blankets off of me and gave me space when I got too hot.  He prayed for me.  He cried with me.  He held me.  He then held my hand as I finally fell asleep.

I totally love him.

Yes, I am still scared, terrified and anxious to get my shot tonight.  But that prince of mine is waiting and ready to help me again.  With him I can do this.

So yes, this is worth it.  Our relationship is stronger because of the physical trials I have gone through and will go through and I am okay with that.  The Tylenol will work better tonight because his buddy Ibuprofen is helping him out tonight.  As for easier cancer treatments - I don't have the answer for that.  I'm just grateful they have treatments.  I hope my kids will continue to sleep peacefully and in their own beds tonight.  And my husband has work off tomorrow so hopefully he can get some much needed rest.

I guess I really don't need a fairy godmother after all.  I have everything that I need and care about and love.

I still want the shoes though.  And the dress.

Christmas Wish

For the past 5 years, I have been doing the 12 days of Christmas with my kids.  It's a fun little tradition we do and I really love doing it.  The reason why I started this particular tradition was because I wanted to focus more on my immediate family during the holiday season than have them and myself get so wrapped up on all the commercialism of the season.

Anywho...

This year of 12 days of Christmas started like all the other years.  I have a list of what we will be doing as a family each day - playing board games, visiting friends, looking at Christmas lights, etc.  On Friday, the 13th (ooooooooo), we had a movie night.  We had a chocolate fondue (yes!) and then we went through Netflix and watched Christmas movies.  The kids were laying on the living room floor watching Charlie Brown's Christmas and I was sitting on our couch, by myself, watching them watch the movie.  Then, out of the blue, E, my 8 year old, came and snuggled up to me. Then, a couple of minutes later, T, my 10 year old came and cuddled up on my other side.  I was now officially a mama sandwich.  I stretched out my arms and draped them over their shoulders.  My 4 year old, I, did not want to be left out so he literally climbed up behind me and continued to watch the movie.  Now usually, by the end of the day, the last thing I want is for my kids to invade my space.  Moms - you know what I mean.  It was late and I was still feeling the effects of the cancer shot/treatment I got the previous night.  But, what I felt at that moment will be something I will never forget and it will be something that I will cling on to when life gets rough.

I felt LOVE and PEACE.

I was sitting there, snuggling with my kids and the thought came to me that this could have been my last Christmas with them.  I'm not trying to be morbid - I'm just being real.  When you are diagnosed with what could be a life threatening disease, such as cancer, it makes you stop and reflect a lot more than when you are healthy and things are going well in life.  I love those moments of clarity and humbleness.  I'm grateful I keep getting these 2nd chances of life.  Really grateful.  And oh my gosh, do I ever love my kids!  In that moment of snuggliness, I did not want to let them go and I wanted that moment to last forever.

I don't know what the future holds in store for me.  We are all cautiously optimistic that I will fight these darn cooties to their death.  But for now, I will continue to live each day as full as I can and I will take advantage of those sandwich moments with my kids.  So, our Christmas wish to you is the same - find those sandwich moments and savor them!  We love you and we thank you for all your prayers and love.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!

I, E, T, K (front)

Studman Jeremy and Cancer Fighting Gorgeous Me (back)

It's Time

I've written at least 5 other posts before this post and have deleted them all.  Again - what do people want to read and know about?  How about this...I don't complain as much as I did in the beginning of treatment.  I have come to terms this is my new normal for a while so just suck it up.  I.  Am.  Alive.  And we are aggressively fighting these darn cancer cooties to their death.

That being said...

What else do the masses want to know?  Remember that one post I said I wasn't going to lose my hair?  Well, I was also told that my hair could start thinning.  I had no idea what that meant up until 4 weeks ago.  I woke up one night with hair in my mouth.  What the heck?  Then, I went to my therapy appointment for my lymphedema and was laying down while my OT (occupational therapist) worked miracles on my sausage leg (I no longer have a major lymphatic system in my left leg because of my cancer and therefore the fluid doesn't know where to go and just stays in my one leg and really makes it look like a fat, juicy sausage.  Beautiful) and I got up, looked at the pillow and it was COVERED in hair.  My hair to be exact.  My scalp hurts a lot too.  Not everyday.  On the days it does hurt (like today), more hair disappears.  I now have two receding hair lines, just like those men who start losing their hair.  I keep asking my studly husband to check the back of my head just in case I start getting the bald spot there.  My oncologist told me not to do anything drastic, like shave all my hair off.  He's had others on this treatment who started losing hair but no one went bald and their hair grew back afterwards.  Ok.  I trust the dude.  I will make do with what I have.

One more thing - what has been hard for me the past couple of weeks is how my treatment really dictates what kind of day I will have.  For example, today is Sunday.  I always go to church with the family on Sundays.  I love going to church.  I love going with my family.  But, sometimes, I just can't do it because the treatment is making me feel "off."  Today is one of those "off" days.  My husband convinced me to stay home.  So, I'm home because of the treatment that is getting rid of my pesky cancer cooties.  But you know what?  That's ok.  I need to keep telling myself that.  I have until July to feel "off" (treatment will be done by then).  Right?  I struggle with this though.  I really do.  I pretty much know what kind of day I will have the moment I wake up.  Today, I knew I wouldn't be going anywhere.  Yesterday?  I had a lot of energy and conned my brother into painting my kitchen with me.  I love those days.  I shower, I get a lot of things done around the house and it feels good.

But, I'm not going to complain.  I keep thinking about that day the oncologist came into my dad's hospital room telling him and us that he had 3 months to 3 years to live.  Stupid colon cancer.  There is no cap on my life like my father's.  Yes, life is a little bit harder than it was 6 months ago.  But I'm still living it.  Honest to goodness - the good days really do outweigh the "off" days.  My dad lived 11 months after that day in the hospital room.  The last couple months of his life were spent in a hospital bed in the middle of our living room.  But the months before that were spent LIVING.  He was always good at that and he continued to do it even with the threat of death.  One of my favorite memories of my dad during that time was coming home for the weekend from the cities to spend time with him.  We did together what he loved doing best - yard work.  I remember pulling weeds out of his rhubarb patch and he followed behind to till the soil.  There is this picture of us from that day - his arm was around my shoulders and we were smiling.  We had just got done making his rhubarb patch all pretty and it felt GOOD.  Good to be with my dad and good to share that experience with my dad as well.  There are so many questions I would ask my dad now that I didn't know to ask him while he was alive.  What were his struggles in being diagnosed with terminal cancer?  Was he scared?  Was he angry?  Did he ever get used to his limitations?  I'm sure my  mom saw and heard a lot more than we did, just as my husband does now.  I miss my dad.  A lot.  But I'm going to continue to remember how he lived after the horrible news of his cancer spreading.  He brought so much joy and laughter in people's lives - he never stopped doing that until the day he took his last breath.  He was pretty freaking amazing.

Anyway...this post has been rather therapeutic for me today.  Whew.  I'm going to go lay down now and rest so I can feel not "off" tomorrow!  Meanwhile - please comment and ask me anything!  What do you want/need to know about what I'm going through?  What are you curious about?  Go ahead and give me ideas on what to write about.  Anything.  Anything at all.  Feel free to be my therapist!  Until then...

Update on Moi

Why hello there!  It's been awhile, I know.  Been sorta busy figuring life out with school starting for T and E and what to do with I and K at home.

I AM TIRED.

Lots and lots of tired.  Actually, I am really tired of being tired.  Why am I tired, you ask?  Well, I'm on round two of my cancer treatments.  I am still getting interferon treatments, just not as much as before.  Now, my awesome and brave husband gives me a shot of interferon 3 times a week (Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday).  I still take my rounds of Tylenol and Ibuprofen every two hours b/c we found out quick if I didn't do that, I would become very SICK.  Yuck.

So, I'm getting shots now.  They hurt and the medicine burns going in.  And I get to have this treatment until July of 2014.  Yaaaaaaaaay.

They did warn me that I was going to be tired.  I just didn't know how tired I was going to be.  And I've got muscle fatigue as well.  Which is worse than just being plain 'ol tired.  It's easier to fight through being tired.  Now I have to figure out how to fight through my noodly legs from the fatigue.  Getting everyday house chores done is a total challenge.  I get really excited now when I actually clean the kitchen.  Like really clean it - the way I used to do it.  Like today - I had a burst of energy so I took advantage of it and cleaned my kitchen.  Now, if I could get someone to mop my kitchen floor.  That sounds heavenly.  <sigh>

Jeremy and I realized that this is the new normal for me now until I'm done w/ treatment.  And since we have pretty much come to terms with it, we are finding ways to work around it.  I just sat down with my two oldest, T and E, and explained to them what everyday life is like for me.  I compared it to them having strep or sick with the flu.  You just don't feel well and you just want to sit on the couch and watch Ninjago, Phineas and Ferb and Mythbusters episodes on Netflix all day and sleep in between. They both looked at me and were a little shocked that that was how I was feeling.  After our little talk, they both agreed that they would clean the living room and front closet for me.  My living room is now clean.  So is my front closet.  The closet is even ORGANIZED.  Nice.  My kids are pretty freaking awesome.  And my kitchen and living room are both clean.  Right now.  I am happy.  And tired.  Always tired.

I'm just really grateful for a bestie and a husband who let me complain daily about my tiredness.  Cuz that's one thing I'm really good at now - complaining.  And they let me think aloud constantly on ways I can overcome this fatigue and what I can do for the next year to stay sane!  Seriously.  I'm also grateful for all the prayers sent my way.  From people who I haven't seen since high school and people that I have never met.  It's pretty cool.  So, thank you.  You guys are awesome!

Well, that's it for now.  I'm going to continue being tired, work my way around it somehow and keep on laughing and smiling.  I've heard that laughter is the best medicine.  It's free too.  :)

The Details

So, I was at church today and I was chit chattin' with one of my good friends and she was telling me how much she loved reading my blog (why thank you) and she mentioned how nice it was to know what I was thinking, feeling - all that stuff.  I agreed with her.  Meaning, when I know of someone who is going through what I am going through, I get curious about their situation.  I wonder, "How are they doing?" "How sick are they getting from the treatment?"  "Will they lose their hair?"  "How are the kids doing?"  "Heck, how is their husband?"

So, I thought since I haven't really addressed any of those questions I would do so today.  Just to give you an idea of how my week runs while on interferon treatment.  As a side note, I do have one more week left of treatment.  I was supposed to be done last week but had a week off since my white blood cell count was too low (like really low).  That was one fabulous week!

Anyway - here you go:

This is what happens everyday.

At noon, I take 2 Tylenol.  Pretty exciting.

At 12:30, my bestie's mom brings me to the hospital.  We get there at 1:00 and I check myself in.  Sheryl (my fabulous nurse) then comes out, gives me a really big hug and leads me back to start my treatment.  On the way there (the walk there is short) she asks me how I'm feeling and if there is anything new the nurses need to know about.  Then, I get comfy in their many recliners and she gets me all set up.  They hook me up to an IV through my PICC line with 1000 mL of saline.  Since I usually get fevers with this treatment, they want to make sure I am well hydrated.  After about an hour, I am given a drug called Indicin - it's like an ibuprofen.  Then, they start the interferon treatment which is hooked up to an IV.  It takes about 15-20 minutes.  After that, they finish up my 1000 mL of saline and off I go.  We usually get out of there at 3:00-3:15.

Now, this is what I feel like Monday - Friday.

Monday:  I get my blood drawn so they can check on those vital things they need to check to make sure I'm healthy enough to have the treatment.  No, it doesn't hurt.  I have a PICC line in my arm - it's like a semi permanent IV that is threaded through the vein in my arm all the way to the heart.  Super cool.  Can't wait to get it out.  Showering is a challenge.  Heck, showering has been a challenge since I had surgery in May.  Anyway, after we get the results back, they start the treatment.  This past Monday, about halfway through the interferon going in me, my bum started to hurt.  Crap.  That's my fever trigger.  Then, about 10 or so minutes later, my muscles start getting all tense and all I do is stretch.  It's really weird.  I feel like a cat with all the stretching I do.  But, that's my body's response to my muscles going a little haywire with the treatment.  By the time we leave, I'm pretty wiped.  But, not wiped out enough to go to Costco this past Monday.  I love that place.  It loves my wallet too.  After getting home, I'm feeling achy and my temp is at 100.0 degrees F.  Yuck.  I take 2 more Tylenol and then two hours later I take 2 ibuprofen and two hours later 2 Tylenol...then when it's time for bed I take 2 Adavan so I can sleep.


Tuesday:  This past Tuesday was BAAAAAAD.  Usually when I take Tylenol and Ibuprofen every two hours it keeps my symptoms at bay.  My body had another plan.  Instead of the meds lowering my temp, my temp kept getting higher.  I was miserable.  I was hoping to sleep it off but my body wouldn't let me.  Grrrr...it can be really frustrating.  My skin hurts from the fever and I get really tired.  By 10:00 that night, my temp was finally back down to normal.  Thank goodness.

Wednesday-Friday: The rest of the week is usually really good.  Besides feeling annoyingly tired I don't get the aches and the fevers on these days.  Thank goodness.  Really thank goodness.

Other random side effects:  Muscle fatigue (which I have dubbed "noodlyness"), loss of appetite, loss of taste (those two suck - I love to eat so that made me sad), loss of focus (I couldn't read or watch t.v.  I couldn't focus long enough to enjoy it).

As for the random questions:

No - I will not be losing my hair.

Emotionally I can be a train wreck.  One of the side effects of this treatment is depression.  Yay... I never thought I would even say this but I'm grateful that I have experienced post partum depression after my last 3 kids.  Otherwise I totally think I would go bonkers right now.  I recognize the signs of depression and that helps.  It's dumb and frustrating but it won't always be like this.  

My kids are doing well.  My two oldest, T and E, have really stepped up their game.  I am so proud of them and feel guilty as well.  Their summer was fun but was spent helping me take care of their younger siblings.  They also learned how to cook eggs, ramen noodles and macaroni cheese.  There was a point during the summer that T was in charge of making sure K ate breakfast and lunch and E made sure his little brother, I, ate breakfast and lunch.  They thought it was cool at first.  Then it got old but they carried on.  Seriously - Jeremy and I have really awesome kids and we feel very blessed and humbled by them.

As for my husband - he's my favorite super hero of all time.  If you want to know how to selflessly serve others without complaint - come spend a week at my house and watch my handsome husband.  I really don't know how he does it.  He's basically been a single parent since my surgery in May.  Yet, he makes sure I get the rest I need.  He sleeps with our youngest sometimes at night so she doesn't climb into our bed and wake me up.  He rubs my back.  He cozies up to me when I get the shakes from the fever so I can get warm.  He makes us dinner.  He takes all 4 kids to church, BY HIMSELF, so I can get some much needed rest without any interruption.  And, he's TIRED.  I can't wait to be done so we can go back to being a mom and dad team again.  I love that guy!

Well, that's that.  One more week.  I can honestly say this has been the longest 4 weeks EVER.  But, I'm almost done.  Then another journey of the treatment begins.  I'll just continue to take one day at a time.  Thank you all for your love, friendship, prayers and thoughts.  It really does mean a lot to me.  So, thank you!

Me and E standing in front his artwork at the Cancer Care Center

The Best

("Bestie" here...) Imagine your best day. BEST. For me it would include sleeping in. Having a chef bring me some crazy egg dream dish, but not in bed because, well, gross. Then Sara and I go shopping with Stacy and Clinton from What Not to Wear, with credit cards they provide because after 9 kids between us we need someone else to tell us what jeans fit, remind us why we actually should care about how we look, and remind us that showering every day IS what grown-ups do. Then my hubby and I go to a movie of my choice and have some yummers Indian dinner. At some point I take my kids to the perfect playdate, blah blah, blah...there are endless ways to write this story.

Now get cancer.

I think Sara's dream day looks like this: Get up at 8, feeling normal. Make breakfast for my kids. Have the energy to then do laundry. Clean the garage. Be normal. Bake some cupcakes to eat after the simple dinner I made. Put the kids to bed before 9. Sleep without waking up until the next morning. Repeat.

Oddly enough I know her perfect day does not include interferon treatments. There are good things about hanging out at the Cancer Care Center at Regions. Like a mini fridge with soda and the awesome nursing staff brings around a snack basket. Pretty posh. I hung out with Sara there for one of her treatments, and I can also say they place the bathroom nice and close so you only have to take a short walk with your IV to use it. We also go to hear a sweet little ditty a nurse sang (same tune as "Happy Birthday") to someone who was finishing her chemo. Hello?! Lorna Doones AND entertainment? How did I get in here without tickets? Oh right, my best friend has cancer. Maybe I'll have another packet of Oreos.

Sitting with Sara plugged in to her drug cocktail, you talk. You sit. Most of all you wonder. What are all the other people in here for? I imagine the same thing goes through the minds of jail inmates. But the woman in the corner with the lovely lavender scarf on her head did not steal a car, she got cancer. She is not being kept away from family, from her life to insure our safety or protect our way of life. She is being kept from her normal life to save hers. We wonder about her story. About all the stories.

You wonder what Sara's body is doing. How is it going to react today, tomorrow, to the drugs being pumped in. Well right now, she is tired. Feeling a lot like the worst first trimester (you know, ladies) you can imagine. She is an experiment for the nursing staff because they have very almost no experience with her kind of treatment. Sheryl (her fantastic nurse) checks in with her every day to see what changes. Are you nauseous? Tired? How are the bowels? Oh, you haven't slept in three days? We'll get you something for that. It isn't often that the medical staff can't really tell you what to expect. They can guess. They can wonder.

More than anything, we hope. We hope the other inmates will get out soon. To their families. To their normal. We hope the tired isn't forever, or the sleep will come, maybe the nausea was the virus the kids passed around. We hope that Sara will get through the next year of treatment without being wiped out all the time, and that she will get back to her monotonous, magical routine. We hope for Doritos tomorrow in the snack basket.

Maybe then Sara can reinvent her perfect day. I actually hope mine will start to look more like the one she wishes for now. So I'll try to find joy in the every day. Really, I make a pretty good egg white omelet, when I remember to eat. And Stacey and Clinton need to relax, and lower their hygiene expectations. We don't have time for perfect. It doesn't exist, anyway. We have now, and it makes that kitchen cleaning I'm avoiding look pretty darn romantic.