I had my H. Pylori breath test today. CS and I headed to the next city over (after some bumper to bumper traffic in the morning) and approached the hospital with time to spare. Walking into a department called "Nuclear Medicine" wasn't all that comforting. Anyways, the people were real nice and my radiologist was cute in an innocent, reminds-me-a-bit-of-my-ex-ex, sort of way. We weren't there long and we headed off to the mall to kill some time, do some window shopping. They had a Coach store and I fell absolutely in love with a bag there (okay, 3). I'm not much of a materialistic person, but I do have good taste (read: expensive) and when I can afford it, I will. Anyhoo, after we drooled over the bags we had a bite to eat (oh chicken shawarma, how I've missed you) and headed out.
It's been and will continue to be a busy week; test today, shadowing someone at work tomorrow, work Friday, market and breakfast with a friend Saturday morning, work Saturday afternoon/evening, Mass Sunday, coffee with my brother's girlfriend Sunday afternoon. Phew!
I'm a little down tonight, though. Realizing I'm no further ahead in some self-work. Hmm.. I don't know if I'd call it 'self-work', per se. I'd call it... y'know what? I'm not going to name it today. I don't care about formalizing or identifying things. I'm tired of articulating how I'm no further ahead with certain aspects of myself - and I don't care right now. I don't care about anything!!
And you know full well when someone says they don't care - that they do.
Fuck.
I hate caring.
And I just received a very blatant sign from the universe, should I decide to take it as one. And why the hell not. Life has been full of signs lately.
Maybe I'll just go curl up with my Canadian Business magazine instead. 'Night, all.
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