Abnormal

Sometimes I just want to fast forward. See how it all ends. Does she get the boy? Does she have children? Do they live happily ever after in a big house on a quiet street with good schools? Do her and her siblings stay close? Does everyone live to be 103? Does she have more good times than bad? Does it all work out?

For crying out loud I *need* to know so I can stop worrying.

I know that life is about the journey and that, really, the journey is already whizzing by at an all too alarming speed. I should want everything to slow down just a bit, so I have more time to enjoy it all. Smell the roses, if you will. But I don’t. I find myself trying to hurry life along so I can see how it all turns out. I feel like I’m watching a movie in real time when, really, I’d like to get to all the good stuff in the next 2 hours or so. It’s a very difficult way to live your life – trust me.

I got a call from my doctor today – abnormal pap. (If you’re a boy, and you’re reading this, pretend I just started talking about shoe shopping… feel free to zone out at any time.)

“Slightly abnormal squeamish (???) cells of indeterminate significance.” (Or something to that effect.)

Don’t you just hate it when the floor falls right out from underneath you?

It’s not the first abnormal pap I’ve ever had. They biopsied my cervix a few years back and everything was honky-dory. Whew. But I honestly never thought I’d have to go through it again.

:(

I hate this feeling. I hate being scared. I hate not knowing. I hate feeling like I’m walking blindly into my future, just sorta watching it unfold as it comes at me. I want to read the last page, know that the heroine makes it out unscathed, and then go back and enjoy the story without having to worry.

Although, I suppose the flip-side is reading the last page, discovering that the heroine dies on Tuesday in a fiery auto accident, and then throwing the book away because I hate sad endings.

Ugh. Life is hard.