I am wondering what pertinent messages my body is trying to tell me. I was about 5 seconds away from passing out at the checkouts in Target today, a good honest faint right in front of the poor assistant. After my vaguely queasy feeling turned into rather distinct black spots in front of my eyes, I decided that perhaps sitting down instead of finishing my transaction was a more noble course of action. I mumbled my intentions of sitting to the customer next to me and stumbled off to the nearest seat to put my head between my legs. No particular reason, either; it actually made me look like some shifty shoplifter getting the guilts at the checkouts. So shifty, I’d left my purse on the counter but taken my ATM card with me to sit down.
It boggles me as to the reason for my body’s need to hit the restart button in public, and I really hope it isn’t linked to the raging headache I got while watching Good Night, And Good Luck. Hello, Brain Cancer.
Does this have anything to do with the cute Canadian who stood me up on Saturday night? I didn’t think that people still did that. What a motherfucker; I actually liked him too.
Edit: Okay, when I mused to myself that things possibly couldn’t get worse I honestly didn’t mean it. Dad was diagnosed with (operable) stomach cancer today. When things fall apart, they really go to hell. I really shouldn’t have made that quip about brain cancer above.
