Feelings, nothing more than: feelings

Feelings, whoa-oh-oh, feelings...

Just love that song. My ex used to sing:

Feelings: just like orange peelings

If you've forgotten the tune, check this out:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wjhp_0IrR1Q

Anyway, the damn things are a pain in the ass.

The shootings at Virginia Tech are awful. Being told by the techs at Hartford Hospital that I can take my Metformin before my PET/CT on Thursday, when I know damn well I can't, pisses me off. The fact that Ann McAllister, whom I met at the breast cancer list's annual get-together in Boston in October 2005, is now really sick, after being in complete remission for well over two years, freaks me out. The fact that Cathy, whom I've known for years and who is now DNEC's executive director (and my therapist's--scuze me, guru's--partner) has some very weird symptoms involving her uterus really worries me. The fact that Carrie seems very depressed and isn't talking to anyone about it--but instead is preparing to get married--worries me. The fact that Obie, our blind, deaf black lab is now 15 and a half and shows no sign of dropping dead though he smells like he already is, ticks me off...partly because I know it's bad karma for me to wish he'd just go to sleep so John and I can go off for a few mini-trips before I drop dead too. It sort of ticks me off, in fact, that he may outlive me. The fact that I really have no clue how my kids are doing worries me. Those are feelings, and I don't like them very much.

I will say, though, that I actually cried a couple of times over the past couple days. Clinical depression notwithstanding, I remember with fond nostalgia the years when I cried nearly every day. No sinus headaches, no knots in my stomach, no exploding head. Goddamn, goddamn, 'tis why I am goddamn, so 'gainst the winter's balm (if you don't know the song, remember: Google is your friend).

All right. One new piece of art to balance out this whine.

Water
. . .