Hectic Anticipation

I am quiet.

Busy making cookie distribution flow charts.

Making a list, checking it twice...

No, I am not anal. I am a (former) hazmat supply chain person. Which is anal but it's okay, I guess, because someone pays you a salary to make sure those radioactive oxidizers don't blow up the plane.

If you're earning a salary, it's not anal, it's a job.

Even if it bleeds over into other areas of your life and gives your hubby a facial tic.

(We are kind of ignoring the fact that I'm not currently working in that field here.)

I am also wary of the upcoming endo appointment and the busy along with the terror that someone might take away the prednisone right when I'm feeling human again is just sort of taking my breath away.

That is the movie reel that plays in my mind. A whitecoat, crewcut guy telling me no more prednisone.

Which is kind of not all that serious as far as nightmares go because I have refills on my prescription. And the option of continuing on with the original endo.

So why I would let this movie go and go and fester, I don't know. But knowing how I tick, if that happened, I would try to quit cold turkey and probably hurt myself.

I don't want to hurt myself. I don't want anyone else to hurt me either.

As for the mixer, my family is more appreciative the cookies than I realized. I think it will be okay.

At least something is!