I went to get my driver's license renewed today. I needed a new picture.
And boy, did I get one:
And boy, did I get one:
This is the temporary, of course - the real one, in glorious technicolor, will be in the mail within the next few weeks. Lucky me.
Well, I look angry and pixelated and chunktacular. And the camera doesn't lie.
So, I have my annual physical with my doctor next week. I haven't lost weight since May. Nothing. Not an ounce.
So she's going to be thrilled.
And maybe even yell at me.
Who knows? What I can say, is that I will be asking her to do a sleep study. I feel exhausted and I'm done with all the snoring.
So, that's what I'm up to. Work feels a little weird and scary at the moment - nothing specific, just a general feeling of, "all is not well".
And others are seeing it too - so while it's disconcerting, I know I'm not alone.
I recall the last few lines of one of my favorite poems - Speak White, by Michele Lalonde:
And we hear you say
We're doing all right
We're doing fine
We
Are not alone
We know
That we are not alone.
We're doing all right
We're doing fine
We
Are not alone
We know
That we are not alone.
ae
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