It is not my day

Remember the whole bathroom renovation? (The wallpaper, the color, more wallpaper, the never-ending saga…)
Dh has been home for a few days in a row. He really does not like the new bathroom color.

And in other news: I flew too close to the sun. Yup! For those of you out there who feel inclined, I give you permission to post your I told you so(s)……before I head to the dermatologist. If even I know things have to be removed, you know they’ve gotta go!

The good news: I feel good about sticking with Dh and supporting him (emotionally, anyway)through medical school as he learned everything. When it finally occurred to me that this thing on my arm was not going to go away, I asked him about it (for only the 492nd time). This time, after close scrutiny, the words, “mmm-hmmm, dome shaped, bet it’s basal cell carcinoma,” were uttered. Yeah! A diagnosis! He really is a genius! (And as far as I can tell from my extensive research (on WebMD) he’s right!)

No, wait. No cheer. It’s changing into the same thing I’ve been asking about on my leg for the last three years. Why does the term come to him now?
Ah, well. That’s OK. With my vast childcare options however, I decide that this can wait until school starts. It’s not far off now. The universe won’t really care if I ignore my body for one more week, right?

Nope. Found another one on my shoulder today. Damn epidermis. I want to tell everyone else to leave me alone—now (I mean, again) I’m talking to myself!
This too will pass. Or if it is just me that happens to pass in the night—that’s the way to go, baby!