Saturday, October 28, 2017


I was going to write about band camp and how I am going there in one more day and how I will stay there for three days and how there will be dozens upon dozens of teenagers there with me with their fanfoozlers and how it will be Halloween and how I am supposed to be fun and yet also be in charge despite lumpy waistline and somehow also sneak my laptop there because I work and have a deadline but I didn't tell anyone on my team that I would be in the foothills listening to sad tuba noises and how the camp is basically in the headwaters of the Aryan Nation in this province and how I forgot to tell anyone about what I can or cannot eat and how as a result I will have to pack alternate sources of nutrition that involve no nuts even though as a vegetarian nuts make up roughly 40% of my protein intake and how to top it all off I will be The Anemic Mom at band camp but I am overwhelmed with despair and foreboding and am just going to put on a snail mucin mask (ha they think they are smart by writing snail mucin instead of snail mucus but I am not fooled) and hope hope hope I have an allergic reaction that lands me in the hospital where my roommate will be a remarkably personable middle-aged woman with a thriving international company who is GASP looking for a smart person to handle her communications at a very lucrative wage and is willing to throw in an S-class Mercedes to sweeten the deal and she is also very good at getting the hospital kitchen to make food and not gross goo and I will be lying there quietly picking my sad snail scabs but eating real chocolate pudding and looking up Christmas holidays in Tahiti which I can now afford and how. 


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