i'm feeling a bit out of it. (i wonder how many posts i've started like that?)

i've been working so much overtime lately, staying til 6.30 or 7 and not feeling like it makes that much of a difference since it's dark starting at 5 anyway. it does make a difference though - by seven the small grocery stores that i went to in my hunt for kale are closed, i've accidentally skipped that q team meeting i had at 5.30 and forgot about, i haven't read the article on healthcare reform that i'm basing that essay on...

but i just wandered around in the falling snow, looking at peoples' faces & down at my boots, noting the twinge in my ankle & the extra work it takes to navigate the sidewalks this time of year, wondering how my schedule will fluctuate in the next few years. i hear nurses get up early.

this morning a technician looked at my internal organs with a sound machine, dictating my breathing, asking politely that i turn this way and then that, taking pictures of those most private parts: spleen, liver, kidneys, bladder. they found that old scarring on my right kidney (which reassured me somewhat, like proof that i didn't dream up that childhood partially spent in hospitals) and then they kept talking about cysts. i'm not sure what they meant.

the technician did a quick check of my uterus & ovaries, checking for endometriums, & everything looked good. bonus! really. a bonus, since usually repro stuff isn't part of a basic abdominal ultrasound.

in the time between tests, as my body was processing all that water they asked me to drink, i finished bastard out of carolina. dorothy fucking allison. what the...