September 7, 2007
They think I have scleroderma. They tell me this on a Friday, which I assume was premeditated. It was a lot like getting fired, only they didn’t take me to an Applebee’s to let me know that my blood work just wasn’t up to snuff this quarter, and that they’re going to have to terminate my life. I’m not sure why I didn’t I get a cooler illness. Like one with a ribbon. Or one that doesn’t need a detailed explanation. I’ve taken to using the words “protracted, lifelong suffocation”. This, I think, many perfectly healthy people can relate to.