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September 11, 2007
Things are supposed to carry on as normal, and for a while—after I’m sure I’ve convinced others of this—I start to believe this is the case. I settle back into pre-diagnosis life: I get angry at politics, cattily dissect the latest Hollywood starlets’ weight gains and drug use, passively-aggressively ride the ass of the beater in front of me with the bumper sticker that reads “Fuck With Me, Fuck With the Trailer Park”, all the while believing that all this is worthy of my strife and angst. The blissfulness of ignorance. If only I didn’t know so much.