I don't think my mom likes me anymore.
After watching the news, I remarked that I wished my name were Dick Street just like the fellow who was featured on the previous story. My dear mother replied, "So do I, because that would mean you weren't related to me."
Then two days ago, my dad asked her what she wanted to drink with dinner and she said, "Hemlock."
Having me living with her is getting to her, I think.
Tomorrow is the big surgery day... or is it? My cute little brain on some level thinks that it'll be delayed again. This has helped me sleep at night and avoid being nervous but I have a feeling my brain is in for a big surprise.
Like any good sitcom, my story lines are crossing and tying up nicely. Supposedly I am going to hear today if the short sale offer I made on that house was accepted. Totally episode 12 of an HBO series kind of week.
My former trainer Jackie is sending me white light tomorrow for my surgery. I'll take it along with good thoughts and positive energy. Again.