Okayokay…I’m done griping about the 3Day thing. Hey! Whaddya expect! It’s called TRUE LIFE! You gotta expect me to throw a little tanturm every once in awhile. I mean, the people who know me….think about it… So all I’ll say today is Happy St. Paddy’s day t’ya!

St. Urho’s Day treated the TRUEs very kindly. I won’t spoil Lynn’s news because she will, I am guessing, want to post it on her CaringBridge site sometime today. Let’s simply suffice here to say that we had an appointment with her oncologist yesterday, and it was a good one. Not out of the woods yet, but we can see the hint of a clearing up ahead.

The other thing that happened was that Syd had her cheerleading banquet last night. I have to tell you in all honestly that after sitting on my butt for nearly seven hours at the hospital, I looked forward to going to this thing about as much as I look forward to the possibility of plague. I had already gotten absolutely nothing done, except nodding off all day, and STILL I was tired. Man, I just hate that place.

ANYWAY, back to our story… So, we went: Lynn, Syd, and I. Us getting there, by the way, was something of a minor miracle because we had neither RSVP’d nor paid for the dinner as of Monday. Last Sunday, our friend Julie (who happens to also be the cheerleader booster club treasurer), approached me between services and asked me whether we were planning to attend the cheerleader dinner.

“Uh…” Was my intelligent response. “What cheerleader dinner?”

She clued me in, as no one had mentioned to me anything about any stinkin’ cheerleader dinner. Then she told me we needed to pay up BEFORE the dinner, or Lynn and I couldn’t attend. No..she didn’t get it either, but rules was rules, and all. Well, as luck would have it, I didn’t have my checkbook on me, so it was “I’d gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today.” I told her I’d stop by her house on Monday night after I picked up Lynn from the airport.

When I talked to Lynn on the phone that night, she was all, “That’s this Tuesday?”

“Yup.”

To make a long story short, we got the money in and we went. …And it was about what I expected it would be. Will someone, someone PUL-EEEEAZE clue all these award banquet people about how to present awards, et al., without absolutely boring people in the process?

Then…came the JV cheerleader awards.

Syd had already gotten kind of brushed over during the mock awards. Her fall squad leader has obviously forgotten about her, and she gave her some lame-ass award like the “you’re really nice” award or something. I could tell that Syd was a little disappointed about that. Heck, I would be, too.

“Cellophane
“Mister cellophane
“Should have been my name
“Mister cellophane
“’cause you can look right through me
“Walk right by me
“And never know I’m there!”
–from the musical “Chicago”

Know what I mean?

There were three JV awards given out. The first one was the Spirit Award, given to the girl who showed the most excitement and dedication througout the year. That award went to Syd’s pal Nicole, and rightly so. The next award, Rookie of the Year, was a little more controversial, at least in our eyes.

That award went to Tiffany, who by all accounts has been the queen bee-otch of the hive all year. She has been the yin to Sydney’s yang, her arch-nemesis, her Lex Luthor, her Dr. Doom, her… Well, you get the point. Needless to say that when Tiffany’s name was called, I could see Sydney’s shoulders slump.

See, Sydney, Nicole, and Tiffany were all three chosen as JV squad leaders. Whereas Syd and Nicole worked very well together, the third leg of the table did not want to hold up her end. Or rather, she thought that she could (and should) hold up the table by herself. She wanted to by the boss. I mean, who not? She’s a sophmore, and the other girls were mere freshmen. As a result, Sydney and I had many a conversation pertaining to the Tiffany sitation…what to do, how to handle it, whom to go to. It was, in the end, a good object lesson for Syd–how to be an effective leader in a difficult situation. Yet, it took a toll on her, as well. And when Tiff’s name was called…

Then, it came time for the final award: the Coach’s Award. This was the biggie–the girl chosen by the coach, herself, as the most valuable assest to the team, the girl who showed the most leadership throughout the year. I don’t need to build it up any more than I already have. Of course, it went to my little girl–well, my not-so-little girl, I should say.

Her eyes almost bugged out of her head, she was so surprised. She looked back at Lynn and me, lit up like a lightbulb. We had to shoo her up to retrieve her award, a big honker of a trophy, nearly double the size of the other ones.

My daughter is the embodiment of the word “grace”. She is a gentle and just soul. She is fair and is always senstive of others’ feelings, sometimes to her own detriment. She doesn’t like to make waves, and when she does, they are gentle ones. And I love her for it.

She has often been frustrated, though, because she has definitely gotten bitten by the “nice guys finish last” syndrome in the past. She’s gotten lost in the shuffle because she is neither flashy nor bitchy enough to get the notice that other girls get. Further, she’s not an attention grabber in the first place. She’s one of those people who do the work for the sake of the work. I mean, yes…she craves attention and notice. Who doesn’t? But she is satisfied with knowing in her own heart–and, I imagine, in our hearts (her mom’s and mine)–that she has done well. And done good.

It is, however, nice that just this once, she got to see that nice guys sometimes finish first.

The picture at the top is my beautiful daughter on her first birthday. Our friend Lisa and I dragged her halfway around the state of New Mexico that day on a quest for the perfect Monte Cristo sandwich. This photo was taken at the City of Rocks in the middle of the high desert country somewhere between Deming and Silver City.

She has come so far since then…yet one thing hasn’t changed: that grace. I often tell people that Sydney is the moral compass for our family. And it’s TRUE…all TRUE. Every day I get to spend with her, I am amazed and awed. I wrote it here before, but I’ll say it again…I say that I am her teacher, but in reality I am the student. Everyday she teaches me something new and wonderful. Every day I am saved by her amazing grace.

I love ya, kiddo. And I am proud of you. My baby girl.

Well, my strategy failed. I thought that by keeping the “Walk the Walk” post up for a few days, it might generate some 3 Day heat. To no avail.

I did get one “I’m gonna,” but that’s about it. As it stands, I am no closer to my goal than I was before.

[sigh…]

Come on, TRUE LIFERS! I mean, heck, Wil Wheaton’s readers netted him over $12,000 for his upcoming cancer marathon. All I need is about $1,200 more!

Okay…okay. I’m going to drop it. I still love all of you. And even though I provide all of you with my interesting and often poignant musings (humble, aren’t I?) FREE OF CHARGE, I am not bitter in the least. Not in the least. No sirree. Not me.

(Is the MN Public Radio approach working yet? If so, hurry now! Click over to the donate page! You can do it! Good job!)

Are you still here? Well, now you’re gonna be a tough nut to crack, I see. Well, in that case, I guess I have no choice but to do what I do best: be a ho.

Now, I am not getting all high and mighty on myself. I don’t pretend to be anyone of significance or consequence. I do know, however, that my original screenplay, RUNAWAY BOYS, could very likely be in production this year. That’s right! A real movie. And though I don’t claim that it will achieve me any measure of celebrity status, here’s the deal…

As an enticement to anyone who donates $100 or more to the 3 Day, I will give him or her a signed and personalized copy of the RUNAWAY BOYS script AND the original short story from whence it came, MICHAEL’S LETTERS. The only thing I ask in return (other than the donation) is for you to keep quiet about the story (at least the ending) until the movie comes out.

Anyone who donates $200 or more? Well, I will also give you a crack at the screenplay I am working on now (based on a best-selling novel–the author’s signature novel) once I get to a point where we’re ready to market the thing (hopefully in mid-to-late spring, if all goes the way I envision…famous last words).

So…you will have that AND my eternal gratitude.

And yes…folks who have already donated that amount (you know who you are) will be grandfathered in. Expect an e-mail or a package from me soon.

Again…not that I am hot snot. But a lot of people have been interested in what’s going on with the movie stuff. If sharing a little of that will help find a cure, well ho, ho, ho!

NOW…click over, please.

[Bill smiles…his cutest and most disarming smile possible]

I am going to make this one simple and plain. It’s too important to gork up with clever quips and narrative.

On September 10-12 of this year, about 15 other people and I will walk 60 miles for the Breast Cancer 3 Day. This event, which is sponsored by the VERY reputable Susan G. Komen Foundation, is a part of a nationwide campaign to raise money for breast cancer research.

If you know me in the least little bit, you know how close this cause is to my heart. And it should it should be to everyone’s. Statistics tell us that one in eight women will come down with breast cancer in some form or another. Chances are that you know someone (or at least know someone who knows someone) that is affacted by this disease even now.

I did the math last night. There are just over 216.5 million adults in the US. For our purposes (though I know this percentage is a little higher), we will say half of them are women: 108 million. One out of 8 translates to 12.5%. That means 13,500,000 women will be affected by this disease sometime during their lives.

Well, I may be a simple country doctor, Jim, but that sounds to me like an epidemic.

Just last year, over 213,000 new cases of breast cancer were discovered, and nearly 40,000 women died.

In my mind…that’s too damn many.

My beautiful wife has struggled valiantly against this disease for seven years. Hell, Action Jackson’s mom has done the same thing for nearly 25 years! And, I am not here to cry in my beer or his (on his behalf), but you can imagine the toll that this type of struggle takes on one’s entire family.

You know what, though? That’s not the thing that really gets me. I mean, Jack’s family made it through, and we’re making it through. We’re going to be okay come what may.

You know what slays me?

Last night, we held our first meeting for our newly formed walking club. We’re all trying to get in shape for the big walk (it was cookl, by the way, folks from their 20s to the 70s! Cool, huh?). There were about 15-16 folks there, and our friend Jean, who had put together the evening, went around the room and asked us to introduce ourselves and say a little bit about why we were walking. Lynn wasn’t there yet–the start of the meeting conflicted with her nightly qigong healings–and so I felt I, being her dutiful husband, should say something on her behalf, which I did.

As I spoke, I made certain to look around the room and into the eyes of the people around me. My gaze, however, kept coming back to this one woman. She was very pretty. A great, warm, fresh face–terrific smile. Eyes that were at once vulnerable, yet disarming. And cute blond hair wisped back in some sassy little doo. No…I wasn’t checkin’ her out… In fact, her cuteness wasn’t the reason why I kept looking back at her.

It was what I saw behind her eyes.

There was something there. I thought it might be empathy of some sort. Or was it a sadness..? I wondered whether her mother or an older sister might have struggled with breast cancer, and that’s why she was there. I mean, the woman looked quite young–mid-to-late 20s at best. No way she could have gone through it herself.

When it came for her to speak, she quietly told everyone her name, and then she nodded to me, saying, “And I’m…a breast cancer survivor, too. I just finished chemo about 9 months ago. Over a year’s worth. And I’m just now trying to get my life back.”

Ohmigod…there it was. It WAS her. But…how could that be? People, I wanted to cry. I remembered back to what it was like seven years ago, when Lynn was a mere 33 years old–in the prime of life!–and we got the news. I remember how we were devestated because Lynn was so young. Yet, this girl…

Later, Lynn and this girl were talking. She was very philisophical about the whole ordeal, which is to her credit. When Lynn mentioned forced menopause (one of the intended side effects of chemo and other treatments), the girl rolled her eyes…and then almost–ALMOST–got a little misty-eyed. Lynn was complaining about the trials and tribulations of going through menopause, and the girl was laughing about it along with her. When Lynn remarked, “Thank God we already had kids.” That was when the girl got quiet.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “You’re lucky. I’ve been having a little bit of trouble accepting the fact that I won’t have children now.”

That was the moment, my friends, when I had to walk away from the discussion.

Talk about grace. Talk about courage. And talk about tragedy.

I mourn for that young woman, and I mourn even more for the children she will probably never have. Because I only talked to her for 30 minutes, and I already knew she would have made a stellar mom.

That’s what slays me, folks.

So…this is what I am asking you today…no…I am making a plea.

I am walking the 3 Day in September with my wife and 15 other people. Please do me one of two favors:

1. If you can, walk with us. it’s easy to sign up! Just go to the 3 Day web site and follow the directions. When it asks whether you want ot join a specific team, choose TRUE LOVE. Each walker is asked to come up with $2000 in donations. 85% of all the donations go directly to breast cancer research (the other 15% covers the expense of the event and administrative costs). Do this because, well…the more the merrier! Do it also because the more people we get walking, the more potential we have to raise money to help stop this disease in its tracks.

2. If you can’t walk or don’t want to walk, please consider donating. It’s easy to do it! Just click here to donate to TEAM TRUE LOVE. You can donate as little or as much as you can afford. I know…I know… I hate asking as much as I am guessing you hate to be asked. It’s gotta happen, though. I am 25% to my goal, and I am hoping that I can not only meet it, but exceed it. Help me help them stomp out breast cancer. Help my wife, help Jack’s mom, help that girl, help–insert the name of someone you love here.

Anyway…I rambled on way longer than I intended. But it’s a great cause, and a great way to make a REAL difference in peoples’ lives.

Thanks for reading, and please give generously. Here’s to WALKING THE WALK!

Bill

P.S. If you’ve already donated (and you know who you are!), I thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you are about to donate, thank you, too. I really appreciate all your support. B

Well, they fought hard. Zach had a couple of great plays and a couple of assists. In the final seconds, however, with the score tied 12 all, the Rumble (Zach’s team) got a foul. The kid who shot the free throws..? Nothing but net. One. Two. Suddenly, it’s 14 to 12, their favor, with something like 15 seconds on the clock.

We got the ball and took it to (Jonathan will be proud of me) the rack. One of our kids, Austin, went for the lay-up, but it tipped off the rim. The other team snatched up the ball on the rebound, and the ref blew the whistle signalling the end of the game.

Zach will have at least one more game to play this week, on Thursday. His team and he are now aiming for the consolation match, which will determine third and fourth places (his team took fourth last year).

My main man is philosophical about the whole thing. I mean, he was in a great mood, anyway, because Andrew, his teacher, showed up to watch the game (what a great guy, huh?). Nothing could dampen Zach’s enthusiasm for having his teacher there to watch him, certain not something as insignificant as a little scoring discrepancy. What I mean, however, is that tonight, as he wolfed down him BBQ salmon, he said, “Maybe if we lose next game, then I’ll just get a medal.”

“What do you mean, buddy?”

I was scratchin’ my head at that one.

“Everyone that loses gets a medal. I’m kind of hoping that’s what happens for us. I mean, we got a trophy last year. I…you know…somehow I want a medal this year.”

“Huh. So you can wear it around your neck like in the Olympics.”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “I suppose.”

Then, he suddenly shifts gears.

“Hey, Dad. In Halo, when you’re on the library level…”

Man, I love that kid.

As of 2:30 this morning, I thought I was going to shake apart. I got up to use the bathroom, and every muscle in my body was shivering as soon as I left the covers.

I knew that it was coming, which is why I got up at 2:30 but had THOUGHT about getting up for a hour or so before that. I felt that familiar twinge in my bones that signaled a fever about to break, but was going to take me on one helluva last ride before it did.

Well, it did.

Thank god Lynn was good-natured about it. I scrambled back into bed like a wounded animal seeking refuge in its borough. And when I got under the covers, I clung to her like there was no tomorrow, trying to warm myself with her. She let me, even though I am certain I was being utterly annoying. Then she cooed to me softly, and offered to get up and get me a glass of water and some Tylenol (both of which I desperately wanted, but was too chicken to face the night air again).

It was just what I needed.

I woke up this morning and felt human for the first time in three days. As soon as I opened my eyes, I could feel that the strangle hold the sickness had me in was broken. I got up and, even though I still felt a bit woozy, I started my day. And oh, how good that felt!

So…today is truly that proverbial first day of… Lynn and I are going to go out to lunch today, then to Home Depot to pick out a new tub for our upstairs bathroom (yes, folks! It’s a getting’ fixed!). Then it’s off to Herberger’s to get Lynn a new winter coat and find some heart-shaped crystals for China trip thank you gifts. From there, we’re taking the kids to a movie right after school (broken promise from this weekend due to sickness, which needs to get in before the start of chemo), and then to Lynn’s reception at church tonight. Oh…and I have to call a guy about movie stuff…mustn’t forget to do that.

A busy day! Crap! How DID I ever fit in work, too! Seriously, though, it will feel really good to do this stuff with Lynn. We always have a good time running around together and doing goofy stuff like errands. Oddly enough, those are some of the fondest moments I remember throughout our time together.

They’re the husband and wife moments, I suppose…the ones where it’s just the two of you, connecting one on one, doing things to build or fortify the infrastructure of your collective life. I don’t know about you, but I feel almost giddy during those times—kind of tingly on the inside. It’s when I get to be the “big, strong man” in the relationship and to be goofy like when we were dating, too. It’s also the time when cool plans are made, and whether or not they actually come to fruition is irrelevant. It’s only the planning, and the connectivity and energy that is borne from it, that matters. And, finally, it’s just “being” together.

Anyway, today I feel relaxed and ready to do whatever needs to get done. As much as I hated going through being sick this weekend, it forced me to simply vegetate for a couple of days and rest. It seems to have done me a lot of good.

Here’s to the new day.

There is no f’ing way I am going to be brilliant today. My mind just isn’t working. About all I’m good for today is lying around and moaning.

So…I took the leave. Yesterday was my last day of work until February 2 at the soonest. Who knows what I will return to, but for now I just don’t care. I’m sick…and when I get sick, I am a big, fat baby.

Actually they were pretty understanding in the end (who couldn’t be, I guess). Of course, there really isn’t a lot of higher brain function stuff going on in my little department right now. Between now and the end of January, I guarantee all my folks will be doing is content, content, content…and then more content. I tried to get things reasonably sewn up, and my boss seemed satisfied for the time being. The company also came through with three things (including some back compensation they owed me) that I’ve been harping on for months. It was nice to walk out of there with all that stuff put to bed.

All that said, I just broke down in tears when I left there yesterday. The relief that washed over me was overwhelming. What a year it’s been…what a hard, terrible year it has been at that place. I am happy to be out of there for a while. As Sheree commented yesterday, I “need to get away.” Well, now I’m away. Here’s to whatever time I am there in 2004 being a better, more positive experience.

Now it’s get the house put back together by Tuesday, which is the day that Lynn (presumably) starts her new chemo. Of course, the infection from the “bullet hole” needs to clear up first. For now, it seems to be acting a bit stubborn about going away.

Regardless, there’s a lot to do to get ready for that, and for Christmas, and for life. I really need to use this time well. And I plan to!

But not today… Today I feel like shit, and I am sitting in my easy chair with Lynn’s Chinese comforter (or “puff” for you Canadian readers. You know who you are), typing on my little iBook, and sipping juice. And I am going to continue to do that until tonight, when we have to go to Syd’s holiday show at school. And if I do anything…ANYTHING else today, it will be to sit on my butt and watch DVD movies. That’s it…

Cough, cough…sniffle

P.S. Here’s a cool little thing I found on the Wilmeister’s blog. It’s called Mr. Picassohead. It’s really fun, and about my speed today. Enjoy!

No smart-alec post or witty repartee here, folks. Just two VERY IMPORTANT things…

1. On Monday, December 8, there is a reception for my beautiful wife, Lynn, to celebrate her safe return from Shanghai, China. As many of you know, she went over there for 2 1/2 weeks recently to study chilel qi’gong with–I don’t know–grand masters, I guess? They also did a lot of “chi healing” for her, too. Anyway, she will be there to talk about it, we will take a look at the pictures from over there, and talk a little qi’gong (we’re actually trying to get a speaker to come in). We will also be recruiting people to walk with us next September in the 3Day Cancer Walk and be asking for generous donations (our team goal is $25,000! We can’t make it without you!). Finally, there will be drinks and cookies! How can you beat that! And ALL OF THIS FOR ABSOLUTELY FREE! What an evening. I believe it’s at 6 p.m at St. Stephen Lutheran Church in Bloomington. Visit Lynn’s website, Lynn’s website for more information. Please join us, and bring friends! The more the merrier.

2. Speaking of the 3Day walk… I am going to ask all of you know to do one or two things. PLEASE reach into your wallets, grab out your credit cards, and go to my 3Day web page. Make a donation today. It’s for a great cause, and the Susan G. Komen Foundation is the real deal. Also, I would encourage you to tell your fiends and family to donate, too. AND CONSIDER WALKING, YOURSELF! THE MORE PEOPLE, THE MORE ENERGY AND FUN! Sign up to walk, and then roll up your sleeves and help us meet our goal of raising $25,000 for breast cancer research!

(BTW — Can you tell I figured out how to format my posts now? 😉 )

Thanks again to everyone for your terrific support over the past weeks. We couldn’t have done it without you!

Dear Self,

A word of advice: next time you have a notion to melodramatically wax on, wax off, instead.

You may not realize it, but at least three of your friends called you yesterday concerned that you might be falling over the edge because of your posting yesterday. I, of course, being the more sensible and lucid one living here in this so-called mind of yours, once again played my role of clean-up guy and peacekeeper. I assured each panicked friend that all is well, and that they didn’t need to buy any black suits or dresses on our behalf just yet.

You see, self, you’re not alone anymore. The words you put out here in the electronic ether don’t suddenly dissolve once you click “post.” They stay intact, and other people access them and read them and are affected by them. You know about this because we’ve talked about it before. Not only that, but the people who are reading these words care about you, and they are bound to be shaken when you make posts like the one you made yesterday without tacking on a more upbeat ending, or at least some sort of disclaimer at the end.

I’m not certain I get you, self. What do you think journal is, your own private digital Idaho? Do you think that you can use this forum so wantonly? To simply express your “deep” thoughts when ever you want and selfishly engage in such utterly cathartic acts like getting things off you chest? WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS JOURNAL IS HERE FOR, SELF?!?

Oh…well, I guess you might have a point there. Upon further examination, I see that you, reckless soul that you are, put a statement in your bio that indicates this site may be used for purposes of revealing self. I understand that this type of activity might include posting things that are potentially controversial or disturbing from time-to-time. I also get that—toward this end—not every post can end on an upbeat note or provide “closure” for your readers.

It is unfortunate, but in all of these arguments you are 100% correct (I do, by the way, hate it when you’re right).

I further understand, however, that people love you and are concerned about you…especially during this very difficult time in your life and the life of your family. There will be times when they read things you write, and they will be concerned…sometimes very concerned. They might even feel the need to reach out to you at these times.

This is, of course, wonderful because it means that you don’t have to bear the burdens in your life by yourself. Other people are willing to share the load with you. This, in itself, is terrific, and I hope you know—TRUE-ly know—how fortunate you are to have something like that in your life. That, and I am certain it also boils down to that age-old African adage, “It takes a village to raise a Bill.”

All right, self, in the end, I guess there’s nothing wrong here. Go about your business. Post whatever you want. Be wild and free like the wind! Swishhhhh! But just keep these words from your sensible side in the back of your mind when you’re writing in this journal, okay? Be wild, but not careless. Be free, but at least marginally mindful that others are reading this little “TRUE LIFE” thing of yours. And in the end, your goal is to inspire them, not to scare them half to death.

Otherwise, just to let you know, self, your day yesterday went just fine. You really enjoyed spending time with your wife yesterday. The two of you had an opportunity to get out of the house for a little while together and have a relaxed and enjoyable time together—something you haven’t had in awhile. In the end, you were really glad that you took the time.

Also, you did just fine re-packing the wick thing in her “bullet hole” wound. It was a little difficult at first. You felt a little squeamish, but you sucked it up like a man and did it, anyway. Way to go, self!

Last night, you had a very fun and inspirational time with your new friend, Doug Wenzel. You went out and had a very nice dinner at Tejas, then you went to see the movie PIECES OF APRIL afterward (you also, by the way, posted a review of the movie in “Exhibit M(ovies)” on this page). You gave Doug some well-received feedback on his screenplay, FIRMAMENT, and you are confident that subsequent drafts are going to yield a terrific piece of work eventually.

Oh! And by the way, you actually got an e-mail yesterday from the writer whose book you’re adapting. It was like you had won the lottery. The only person in the world you might have been more excited to get a message from is probably Elvis Costello, but you don’t want to adapt any of his books (what books?). He was very gracious in his message, and it looks like you really do have a green light to move ahead! Wow…

You handled it pretty well, too. You regained the ability to speak coherently within 15-20 minutes, and you avoided the unsightly incontinence problems you’ve had in the past when situations like this arise. Lynn was very proud and even more relieved.

All in all, self, yesterday was a good day.

Now, self, it is nearly 7:30 in the morning. You have been at this for quite some time now. Stop typing, get your butt up off the chair, drive your kid to school, and get ready for work. Today is another day and another opportunity for living. Live it well.

All the Best,
Yourself

Yesterday was a hard day.

This doesn’t happen so much any more, but when I was a kid I used to have that type of dream where I was running away from something. I would have these dreams pretty frequently—at least once or twice a week that I can remember—and I would always wake up sweating and panicked afterwards.

The dreams were all basically the same scenario, although the settings and characters (including who I was) would change from time to time. In a nutshell, it was me running—or trying to run—with some monstrous thing hot on my tail. My heart would pound in my ears, and I could actually taste the salt from the perspiration that was flowing freely from my hair and forehead, down my cheeks and into my mouth. I was always screaming.

It sounds like your garden-variety dream, I know. The difference for me, though, was that I could never run fast enough in these dreams to get away. Not that the monsters were so fast, mind you. Rather, it was me that was so slow.

I knew how fast I could run. I was no speed demon in waking life, but I was fast enough to leave a big, lumbering monster in the dust. Yet for some reason, when I tried to make my legs go, they would suddenly feel like some strange conglomeration between rubber and concrete. I would try to pump them, but all I could manage was some slow motion kind of thing, where my legs would feel weaker and weaker with each plodding step. Eventually, I would simply collapse and not be able to get back up again.

It never took very long in these dreams. The monster always caught up with me. My mind was always kind enough to wake me up before the really horrible part, but not kind enough to spare me everything. Just before opening my eyes, I would feel it upon me, its teeth or claws or whatnot scratching or scraping or boring in to me. Every time, it felt like what I imagine it must feel like to be stabbed with a red-hot poker. My whole being would cry out, but it was helpless to do anything about it. I would simply lay there in agony and get devoured.

Then I would awaken.

Yesterday we went to Lynn’s doctor’s office on an urgent basis.

Turns out one of the incisions from her “chest thing” (I can never remember that they really called it…”pleuradesis?”) has gotten pretty infected, so they needed to pack it was some kind of gauze-like wick thing to draw junk out of it while it heals. I swear, when the nurse practitioner cleaned the thing out, it looked like a bullet hole. It was that deep—like a little cavern set in the back of her torso. And lucky me, I get to change her dressing and poke a new little wick inside there today sometime. If I can only keep from fainting..!

The infection, however, will heal. They got her on some pretty strong antibiotics, so that’s not really the problem.

The problem is chemotherapy. It looks like things are quickly going south. There have been some strange things occurring for her physically, which indicate her liver functionality is beginning to be somewhat impaired. She has, in fact, gotten a little spooked by it. So…she asked that they begin chemo as quickly as possible. At the moment (and depending on how well she recovers from the infection), it looks like it’s going to begin next week.

I know we will make it. I do. I can’t help but feeling, though, that the monster is once for on my tail. Only this time I am awake, and what will happen when it finally descends upon me? There will be no waking relief.

Sorry this post is such a downer. It’s just how I feel this morning. I took the day off, so I could be with Lynn and help her out today. And so I could clean the damned house. And so I could just rest and not worry about stuff today.

God, I am glad I am taking some time off.

An odd day. I got to work, turned on my computer, opened up my e-mail, and started to work on a memo that I really needed to get done last Friday. What did I do next? Promptly stared at my computer screen for the next 7 hours, that’s what I did. The writing is on the wall, I know when to say uncle.

I finally made overtures to take some time off over the coming weeks. As such (and assuming everything is approved), I will be taking a six week leave beginning next Monday, January 8. It will be really nice. I need time to get back on my feet, and I really want to spend some quality time with Lynn right now. Also, she needs me here on a more full time basis to help care for her and care for our home. And I also really want to make this a REALLY memorable Christmas for the kids.

Man…it sounds like I am trying to sell someone, huh? I don’t know. It still bothers me a little that I am doing this. It will take money from savings, how will it look to the blah, blah, blah… It’s not simply that I want this time, however, I believe I really NEED this time. I have pushed myself far enough over recent weeks, months, years. Even the great Bill-dini needs a break every now and then, I guess.

So…there it is. And, of course, I am hoping that this allows me some time to write. Perhaps get a ways on the adaptation? Who knows. I would kill to walk out of January with at least a draft, though. Know what I mean?

I am still caught in the space in between, and I can’t seem to quite get out of it yet.

Anyway, that’s all I got for tonight, folks. On the more technical side, however, there are a couple of really cool developments.

First-My eBusiness department (i.e., Tim Canfield…THANKS! YOU DA MAN! …And yes…I am buying your wife soup tomorrow) set up web domain forwarding for me, so when you type http://www.billtrue.net in your browser, you automatically come here. That means that until further notice, I guess this is the home page for billtrue.net. Cool, huh?

Second-I posted a few writing works of mine. People have been asking me about it, so I thought I would oblige. It’s all short stuff, so they’re pretty fast reads. And, no…I didn’t post RUNAWAY BOYS. Sorry…you’ll have to wait for the movie now.