Not terrible news

Today may have been a first. The first time a doctor called me to tell me news that was not terrible. In this case, I don’t have knee cancer. Only I would be at risk for something like cancer of the knee. So at least there was some relief from thinking about my future hip replacement, a prosthetic leg to replace the leg they would have to amputate and never being able to walk normally again, or have sex again or even date again.

The holidays are about to begin and I am taking all of this time off from work with no where to go because I’m broke and no one to see because I don’t know anyone to see, outside of cashiers and people who work in service industries. Other than that. I’m going to try to use it as sort of a writer’s retreat. Which is a scary thought because what do I have to write about that I have not written already. Perhaps I should end this post now because the more words I put into it, the fewer words I will have when I need them for my writer’s retreat. When you only write or speak a handful of utterances each week, you really have to ration them carefully, judiciously.

But what will I do over the holidays to fend off despair? I just to find a place where I can pretend I am another person.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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