(no subject)

Trying to figure out my schedule for conA (yeah, I don't know why I don't just call it what it is, or call it something else entirely.Maybe I'll experiment with calling it Primrose)

So, trying to figure out my schedule for Primrose.  There's stuff I feel like I must do, stuff I ought to do, the actual job I'll be doing, sleeping and eating.  I'm looking at you, Friday evening panel about comforting cooking shows.    And I'll probably go buy too much food, cook too much and bring too much to the convention, in hopes of making myself as comfortable as possible.  And maybe I'll wear the precarious dress and see if I can still get into the strapless bra.  Or maybe just a lot of backless tanks. 

 

It feels weirdly like a last hurrah for my tits, like I should take them out for one last spin while they're still in a state I'm comfortable showing people?  

 

I have signed myself up for quite the shitshow.  Switching meds, going to Primrose, interviewing to be a partial conchair for next year's Primrose, sleep study, running Primrose's debrief, more surgery.    And that's just the next two months.

 

And on the one hand I'm like....I could wait.  The pain isn't all that bad, and people can live with ruptured implants for a while and MRIs give false positives all the time.   But then the other part of me reminds me I don't do well with swords overhead, I want to do this on my terms rather than because I'm forced to it by circumstances.  And then, maybe, if I do this, I get a puppy in the summer, which means that in 2021 I'll be willing to leave the house again and we can try to go to Australia.  Or Venice.   

 

Much like there's never a good time to switch meds, I suspect there's never a good time for surgeries or fucking with one's sense of self.  Either everything's fine, and you don't want to mess with the balance, or everything's not fine and it's a bad time to mess with what's left of the balance.