Wednesday. I mentioned last week, when I went to have my annual blood test to check for any sign of returning prostate cancer, that the doctor had somewhat subtlety “prepared” me for the possibility that this test might turn out badly as the test number they'd obtained last year was high enough to be problematic. The number that came in the mail yesterday was lower than last year's number and the doctor noted on the printout: “great that it went down”. Yes indeed. I was wondering. Had it not arrived today there was a good chance they wanted to talk with me on the phone for reasons I'd rather not think about. And I guess I did indeed pick up their unstated message that something could be amiss so be ready. Teddy.
Back now from breakfast, tired for whatever reason, maybe take a nap in a couple of minutes to restart the day.
Later. One nap later, raining outside, listening to the radio as it approaches noon, what to do, what to do. Thanksgiving tomorrow, of course, a trip to San Rafael to have what will undoubtedly be a debauched dinner with two of my cousins who've made it a tradition now to descend from Seattle and from Los Angeles onto cousin Vickie's place for the long Thanksgiving weekend. I believe I need to head to Beverages & More later to pick up Champagne. Bachelor men who bring Champagne, good Champagne, are sometimes invited to the next year's festivities. Even old cranky bachelors who live in Oakland.