Highly Illogical

WHY in full flaming, Rubine Red blazes am I so damn angry lately?

This past week or so, it takes nothing, or next to, for me to feel like going off on friends and fam. Even if there had been something to miff me off, the boiling hostility, just itching to snatch center stage, is way off scale.

Wut up?

Got me hangin.’ I asked Jen if she had any thoughts. She allowed that, once her chemo was over (remember? She had tit cancer—survived it too. YEA!) and she was beginning to feel like herself again, she found that she was pissed 24/7. Positively raging. Normally, folks who’re rockin’ the mad choler-osity are really hard for me to be around but I don’t remember this at all.

Why not? Well, boyhowdy, I’d just been through my own hod of stront. Jen and I were probably dancing the Temper Tarantella together.

I get why Jen woulda been in a fury. Hell’s bells, YOU go through 6 months of scary, painful, freaky fucking medical crap where you’re fighting for your life and see how you feel! AND I get why The Amazing Bob would be raging but he’s not—he’s all peaceful and chill. Relieved maybe?

So why is my dander in a vicious fluff? How come I’m working overtime so’s I don’t rip the heads off all my innocent friends and fam for the crime of…of…dunno. Waddya got?

I suppose my thought on this is that I’ve been doing my damnedest to take care of the love of my life, my besty and partner of nearly 30 years. I’ve been dispensing his morning and evening pills (and watching over him to be sure he takes them), taking him to all his doc appointments and tests (making sure a ‘terp is there so I don’t miss a thing), nagging him endlessly to eat, EAT (and frantically searching for grub that'd appeal when he found all his usual loves odious) and I’ve been watching him sleep every night—checking to be sure he’s still breathing. What would I have done if he quit with the inhale/exhale action? Move heaven and earth, dammit, to get him back on track. Of course. He’s my man and I will NOT have any of this respiratory fail shit. Unacceptable! I've been keyed up, wound tighter than Rocco in a house full of kiddles and stressin' these glam ta-tas off for a lot of months now. I guess the hair trigger anger might have something to do with finally being able to breathe out again. Dunno.

TAB took a walk up to the corner store (about a five block round trip) the other day. This was HUH-YUUUUUUGE and I’m thrilled to bits (duh)! It seems he really IS starting to feel better.

PHEW!

Now I want a vaca. Cuba. I wanna go to Cuba, sit under a brightly colored umbrella on a sun flooded beach where the ocean’s an unreal shade of turquoise. And I want hot and cold running cabana gents serving me an endless stream of ridiculously ornate, befruited libations.

And Buffy. Buffy (final season and earliest years) should be on the lounge’s TeeVee. Followed by Angel (just the last two seasons thanks). Okay, after that there’ll be a Firefly marathon.

On this vaca—hells, life should be like this every damn day—I won’t have to read lips. People who wish to speak with me will beam their thoughts into my brainpan. You know my mind to your mind but without all that Vulcan touchy feely business. Oh, I know! I want that communication dealie—the BrainPal—from Old Man’s War, the John Scalzi series.

John Perry figures how to use it in battle situations. It is a great communication device for the soldiers. It is like having a limitless library in your head. It translates alien languages. The special forces soldiers use it for their main mode of communication.

It’s the Library of Alexandria. the BPL, the NY Public Library meets Spock crossed with Kreskin. With a BrainPal everyone speaks directly to each other's minds—no speech needed!

Want! Okay, I want the upgraded body (without all the soldier/war biz) to go along with it.

See? This is WHY I read sci fi. What? You’ve not read Old Man’s War yet? Christ almighty! Do it. do it. do it!