Sigh.

Last night I sat at the kitchen table, writing my AP bio lab report, and just cried. I'm sure I looked ridiculous.

Mom's third relative to get a serious form of cancer is on his deathbed. He's the second to get pancreatic cancer. The way I look at it, my chances are increased. The way Jonathan looks at it, 1 in 6 gets cancer, and if three on that side of the family already got it, our chances are reduced.
Funny how that works.

I'm supposed to be working on a paper for government due on April eighth. I'm not. I'm just staring at this blinking cursor on a TPS computer that probably hasn't been defragged since '01, and feeling bitter than the shift key sticks.

And I'm listening to Bright Eyes.

"And I don't know why, but I still try to smile
When they talk at me like I am just a child.
Well, I'm not a child. No, I am much younger than that."