Tomorrow my mom goes to the hospital and she’s getting her surgery on Tuesday. We spent a really pleasant afternoon, packing her up and chatting. It was a surreal afternoon, as if she’s about to go to a beauty farm and we’re all excited for her. Her mood is chipper and resolute and it gives me so much confidence that all will be well.

I drove her car back to our place and I was so nervous I was sweating. Methinks someone has transposed all the stress onto the driving. I have an interview @ 12.40 tomorrow and then off to the hospital we go. I have so many thoughts twirling through my demented brain that they bounce into each other and explode, leaving me a confused mess. I cannot thank the universe enough for having Ben. Although, the universe has thrown enough crap this way, that Ben is my reparation. In spades. My mom told me she’s tired and that she wants to have fun now. I could not second her motion more. All this waiting on crap has left us both tired and drained and it’s only fair that we should get to have some fun. My dream was always for both of us to die simultaneously, at age 110+, in a Bacchanalian feast. And I intend to start working towards it! No more of this cancer crap and more of this feasting stuff. I’ll bring the wine.

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