It will come as no surprise to many of you that I have a special kind of twisted logic. For example, my Aunt Carolyn reminds me of Tina Turner. If you knew my Aunt Carolyn, you would understand how absurdly and deliciously twisted that is.
Also, I'm thinking about whether the drawers on my new coffee table should face the front door, rather than the couch, because it will look better when you come in the house. Whoever heard of turning a perfectly functional drawer into a decorative one for the benefit of people who haven't even made it to the coat closet yet?
Given all this, it should come as no surprise that I am looking forward to losing my hair.
Whenever I mention that I'll be losing my hair soon, my dear friends and other supportive people-in-the-know exclaim, "The hair doesn't matter! It's so unimportant! The main thing is that you get well!" But they don't understand the power of having a badge.
See, I have a lot of bad days when, for example, I tell would-be elevator passengers that we're going down when we're really going up, or I mindlessly cut people off in traffic because I kind of forget that there are other people around, or what have you. Not surprising, with everything I've been through lately, but of course most people out in the world don't know I have cancer, so they figure I'm a few sardines short of a can, and maybe they flip me the bird.
But when I'm bald, all that will change!
It's like being pregnant. When you're pregnant (hang with me, guys), the first few months are hell because you're tired all the time and you're puking your guts out and the only thing you've got going for you is enormous ta-ta's. But then, whammo! You're showing! And suddenly everybody's holding doors for you and patting your belly (even when you don't want them to) and asking you when you're due.
Aside: Maybe you shouldn't rub my head without asking. When I'm bald, I mean.
Anyway, everyone's nice to pregnant ladies, and I'm betting everyone's nice to cancer patients too. What do you think?
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I don't know... I'm just going to rub your head, when you're bald, without asking.
ReplyDeletelove you.
ReplyDeleteThats my twisted Ann!!
ReplyDeleteI think you're on to something.
ReplyDeleteI do know your Aunt Caroline and only in THE most opposite bizarro universe could they be considered kindred. I agree with you on the "Don't tread on me" effect of the bald head; I just wish it wasn't you giving the chrome dome a test spin. Get better Annie.
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