The story of things lost and found

I wonder if I still have any readers left…

In the last two weeks, I’ve found myself totally and completely drained by work. By the time I get home, I find I have no words left. Writing, which used to be my outlet, became just another drain on me and I found that I couldn’t bring myself to write.

Let me bring you up to date on a few things.

1) That stupid mole on my face?

It’s not a tumor.

B) My workaholism is getting worse. I showed up at work today to puzzled coworkers. Apparently, I forgot that today was my day off. Oops.

3) My coworkers have also rebelled against my choice of ringtone. I don’t understand why anyone would get tired of Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” but such is life. With that in mind… I will make use of a new WordPress feature: The Poll!

If you feel I am ridiculous with the choices I have offered, put a write-in vote in the comments. In a week, I’ll go with the results.

The story of treachery and deceit

I am so, so sorry. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

p.s. – if you don’t understand what just happened, click here or here.

The story of the mole (and not the Soviet spy kind, either)

On Friday, I left my house, pulled out onto the road, made a left turn onto the main street of town and was promptly pulled over by a cop.

Being the acting cops reporter, this was more than a little embarrassing.

But truth be told, the best part is when the cop moseys up, looks inside, double-takes and says, “Oh, it’s you.”

Stupid expired license plate.

Anyway, I went to the dermatologist and waited around for a while before I actually got in. Actually, it was a good half hour, and that’s pretty standard with doctors’ offices I find. Not even being health reporter gets you the fast lane (though I wouldn’t let them give me special treatment anyway, since only jerks and primadonnas do that).

Sitting in the exam room is always the worst. It’s quiet. Well-lit. Very cold. Sterile, even. I know that’s the point, but I still hate it.

Enter Doctor #2. I say Dr. #2 because I was referred to see Dr. #1. Note to self: If you ask to see Dr. #1, see him. Don’t let them foist you off on Dr. #2. You’ll find out why.

Enter a nurse (who quite fortunately does very little to remind me of The Nurse), who then takes a needle to my face. I hate needles, but this one is loaded with Xylocaine, so it’s okay.

The doc enters, says he doesn’t really think anything is wrong with the mole on my face. Despite my protestations of how I have a past history of bad moles and how this mole is doing things moles should not do.

I insist he removes it.

He takes a razor-blade and a small medical torch, for lack of a better term. He uses the razor blade to, quite literally shave the mole off my face. And he does a not-so-good job of it. What’s left of the mole is not quite flush with my face so it looks like I have a small crater on my head. Fortunately, my eyebrow is pretty much intact, so you can’t see it.

I should have waited for Doctor #1.

So now all that’s left is to wait for the biopsy. Don’t know when the word on that will come back, but I will keep you informed.

In the meantime, have some pictures!

Pictures from the anti-cancer 5K!

Pictures of damage from our windstorm!

This last one I am thinking about making up into a poster and selling… Thoughts?