My Lit Prof assigned for our drama material:
Death of a Salesman
Oedipus the King
Any one of these are enough to make a clown* commit messy suicide. All three? Good GAWD.
Please, for the love of Bon — send me amusing stuffs. I need some levity, dammit.
* – yeah, so no necessarily a bad thing. But still. This entry was originally posted at http://triplemare.dreamwidth.org/385340.html.You can comment there using OpenID or by getting your own account.
After she had been wheeled back, pale and shivering she was suddenly a tiny girl again. I couldn’t help it. I fussed.
Finally, she said:
"Mom. If there was something wrong, I would yell. There’s nothing wrong with my lungs."
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Tomorrow is Summer’s eye surgery. The center is going to call me at some point today to let me know the exact time – although we do know it will most likely be in the afternoon.
She is acting out – just a bit – as she is nervous about the procedure. Hell, I am acting out just a bit as I am nervous about the procedure. General anesthesia for your eleven year old kid is not a joke. So many things could go wrong. The likelihood is extremely high that they won’t, of course. I am told that this a standard surgery; it is done all the time.
That is my Girlie that you are going to render unconscious with chemicals through a vein in her arm. So, don’t fuck it up. This entry was originally posted at http://triplemare.dreamwidth.org/384908.html.You can comment there using OpenID or by getting your own account.
I do believe that I have frightened my writing class.
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