Today I woke up late… way too late to get anything done with the healthcare system. Mom was irritated, but I reminded her—very lovingly, of course—that if she really wanted me to get things done, she could have woken me up. Classic bait-and-switch. And yes, she fell for it. Score one for the quit-smoking brain.
We headed to Walmart for groceries, which—between the two of us—is basically a comedy routine where neither of us supervises the other. We wander the aisles like two unsupervised ten-year-olds, tossing every snack, treat, and candy imaginable into the cart. Ding Dongs? In. Drumsticks? Yes. Malt powder? Absolutely—why not turn my kitchen into a 1950s soda fountain?
Of course, being an ex-smoker with cancer lingering like an unwanted sequel, this is not exactly the diet my doctor had in mind. But that’s the tricky part: the better life gets, the more I have to remember not to get too comfortable. My health still keeps me in check, even on the days where everything feels alright.
Oh—and I cleaned Whiskey’s litter box. She was grateful in her own way: by not pooping on the carpet. Love comes in many forms.
I got this.
by Dan and Bonkers
SUPPORT MENTAL HEALTH AWARENESS NOW!!!
