8,758 Hours Later: An Introductory Rant That Has Little to Do with Anything.

8,758 hours ago. Two hours short of 365 days exactly. I was in my car with my best friend. Driving West on the freeway. Windows cracked, smoking cigarettes, trying not to worry.

"Dry The Rain" by the Beta band came on. Autumn and I sang loudly and horribly. We smoked and we sang and we experienced emotions.

4 minutes and 09 seconds into the song the musical bridge (you know the one) ends and Steve Mason pulled us into the finale of the song.

We sing. And we smoke. And we Experience Emotions.

If there's something inside that you want to say
Say it out loud it'll be okay
I will be your light
I will be your light
I will be your light
I will be your light

As we sing we laugh until one or both of us may even be crying, but who can really tell at this point?

I need love

As we sing we change the lyrics some, as is our way from time to time.

If there's something inside that you want to say
Say it out loud it'll be okay
I will be your light
I will be your light
I will be alright
I will be your light

As we sing I drive and I smoke and I try not to worry.

I will be alright

We are driving West to go sit in another friend's living room and drink wine, and color, and not worry. Driving west to drink wine, and color, and pretend to take my mind of the surgery I'm having in the morning.

Schrodinger's Cancer is what I called it.

No way to know if I had it until they cut me open, removed half of my thyroid, and did a flash biopsy. If it was benign, they stitch me up. If it was cancer, they remove the whole thyroid and stitch me up. Wouldn't even know I had cancer until I didn't have cancer any more.

Didn't even know I had cancer until I didn't have it anymore.

But that's not what this is about. Not really.

This is about one year later, and "Dry The Rain" coming on my Spotify list and being back in that car, Smoking and Singing and Experiencing Emotions.

This is about me now.

Or, at least, it will be.