enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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Chocolate is taking over my life.

Bone scan tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to it, but then it will be over tomorrow and so no longer on my calendar and that is good. I'm hoping that they'll allow me to leave the hospital in between the dye injection and the scan so that I can still join the ladies' club for breakfast. Two of the girls ate the most disgusting breakfast of waffles with ice cream on them last week and I feel like joining them in a weird sort of show of junk--food solidarity.

Hmmm...I haven't had a waffle since I was in Brussels with Eric in 2000. I wish that I could stop continually, earnestly, achingly yearning for years that have passed by.

C. sent me some nice photos from my trip to Montreal in April. I have to confess that I am somewhat relieved since in the first batch that he sent a few weeks ago I looked perfectly awful--I was convinced I'd aged ten years in the last few months.

C2 called from Toronto as she was in S0ma and wanted to buy me yet more chocolates. I protested but to no avail. I am getting chocolates when I arrive on Friday. The test will be whether I can resist eating any of them and instead save them to give to the friend whom I stupidly--and accidentally, I might add--stood up last week. (I'm getting forgetful and so for the first time in my life acknowledge that I need to begin writing things down.)

I have to do my taxes tonight. I know, I am late. It isn't entirely my fault--my lazy former university that is too good to efficiently adminster itself (and that shall remain nameless) failed to reset the password to my tax receipt online so that I could, um, print it. I had to argue with someone on the phone today in order to get it done. Fortunately, I paid lots in taxes last year in the first half of the year and then my income fell short in the last few months so I am actually getting money back and not in a compromised legal position of any kind.

I feel like a bit of a money-collector at the moment. My drug ensurer hasn't refunded money that has been owed to me for a while so I am pursuing that. Much worse, I made the most ridiculous mistake--a typo in my ADDRESS-- with the government for my interview travel claims and so I discovered that my reimbursement cheque had indeed been sent out but to the neighbour across the street. I regret to say that I live on the edge of a very nice area but that the address to which the cheque was sent is for one of the two not-so-nice houses on the block. I've knocked now a few times and left two notes and I haven't heard anything. The problem is that the government won't cut a new cheque until the other one has been returned, and obviously these people never bothered to return it. My worst-case-scenario has unfortunately accused them in my head of actually cashing the cheque; more likely they simply tossed it. This is more a petty annoyance than anything, although I've definitely learned my lesson about knocking off travel claims whilst sleep-deprived.

My mom called me today to tell me about a graduation speech that she heard on the radio today--long story--and she's told me to follow my passion in life and to not compromise. It is about time. So I will do the research job in Ottawa and figure out exactly what I love and move into that from there. Things are looking up.

That fight that the guy picked with me has been bothering me today, I'll admit. C. has assured me that I said nothing offensive. I guess the thing that bothers me is that when you're dealing with a somewhat irrational person--and whom you've rejected, romantically--there's no way to deal with this but to shrug one's shoulders and speak with this person as minimally as possible.

I must go to bed early tonight. I really don't enjoy going to bed early, although I do like the early morning. Night-owlishness reminds me of when I was little in the 1970s and I would sneak out to the living room at night to watch Thr33's C0mpany and stupid 9 p.m. shows like that, from the stairs, over my parents' shoulders. Now that I think of it, it's rather a marvel that they didn't notice me. I guess I must have been somewhat clever and stealthy about it and stayed high enough up on the stairs to limit sound, looking through a bannister. Hmm.

Keep your fingers crossed for me re. the bone scan! I'm finding it difficult not to worry.

8:41 p.m. - 2006-06-14

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