Sunday morning.  I love Sundays.  Low-strain, low-agenda days for me.  I'm sitting here in front of the wood stove, nearly sweating (it's amazingly warm today -- over 40!) -- I light the stove on mornings like this just to take the overnight chill from the house; the sun will do the rest as the day goes on.

Okay, this is weird, but I almost feel guilty that I feel as good as I do.  I'm sick -- very -- and yet the disability this semester is going to give me some time that I would never have had, otherwise.  It's almost as though I feel like I should be sicker -- or feel sicker (you don't get sicker than terminal cancer) -- to justify the disability, but given the way my memory, especially short-term memory, and my vision are working (or when they fail to work right), I know I can't do my regular job effectively.

I would be an *awesome* greeter at Walmart, however.  :)

I could totally greet the shit out of people.  But only for about an hour at a time, then I get weary and have to sit down (or sometimes lie down) for a while until some energy comes back.

We're tapering the steroids, now, so I'm expecting to have a bit more of the pressure headaches than I've had so far.  They aren't too bad, and are usually quite controllable with ice and some ibuprofen, but still, I don't like them.  When I go see my medical oncologist this week I want to ask her about the end stages of this disease.  I have a big-ass party to plan: I'm going to get to enjoy my own damned wake.  What fun is a wake if you're the dead one?  So my plan is to have a party while I still have enough cognitive awareness that I can enjoy a beverage, some tunes, and some conversation with the people who love me and whom I love.  I don't want to wait until I'm some incapacitated blob of jelly.  It'll be a party, dammit, and not funereal.  I want peoples' last recollections of me to be me having fun with friends.  That's a nice memory to have.  Better than a memory of me wrapped in a blanket moaning, or worse, unconscious.  I wouldn't want that.

So my plan is to get as many of my friends and colleagues as possible, a couple of local bands that I know and am friends with, many ice chests with beers, a pleasant, warm evening, and just let go until someone throws up.  (And even then we'll just clean them up and carry on!)

So, party, people.  My place.  Sometime in the next couple of decades.  Big-ass party.