For I have practiced long and hard to get to the point where I can pretty much do nothing all day long. If laziness were a martial art, I'd be a black belt, possibly 3rd or 4th dan.
And yet, I know I'll never reach the pinnacle of laziness, because there always, ALWAYS, comes a point at which even I of the steel-belted procrastinatory nature give in to societal expectations of having to actually PRODUCE something in order to get paid for 'working,' and today is one of those days.
One hallmark of the truly top-drawer putter-offers is that we can usually deliver something on time and in pretty good shape, given approximately 10% of the time it ought to take and enough caffeine. Even though my copious caffeine-drinking days are over (I do LOVE a regular heartbeat nowadays), the resolve necessary to git 'er done lives on.
And so, in the next 4 or so hours, I shall be steaming through an amazing amount of data, flinging graphs and tables about like confetti at a World's Funniest Home Videos $100,000 finals show, and cursing my lackadaisicality at regular intervals.
It is the way of my people.
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Item 2) Also, had a couple of 'spots' frozen off yesterday by the lovely PA at the dermatologist's office. I don't mind getting spots frozen off - it beats having them sawed off with a scalpel (a distinctly unpleasant experience) and the momentary burn feels kind of good (don't judge!).One spot is on my left shoulder, the other is on my right wrist. The wrist one was just an 'ugly' spot of rough skin that I wanted off, and the lovely PA complied with a 2-second blast of liquid nitrogen.
OK, so what happens after that is that the spot turns white (it's ICE!), then thaws (it's SLUSH!), then a red spot appears around the frozen spot (it's IN TROUBLE!), then at some point over the next 8 hours, enough liquid gathers up under the frozen spot to look like there's a bloated serum-filled tick attached to where the flesh-ice used to be (it's GROSS!).
Then, if you're me, you can't stand it anymore and you pick just a little bit at one edge, and the tick collapses in a rush of goo. Sweet relief!
And then, again, if you're me, the tick reappears. I know! It's like a zombie of the inflammatory process world! Reanimated, reinstated, revolting!
Therefore, fascinating. I kind of can't wait until it all peels up and I get to see the new skin underneath. Bye bye ugly brown spot - helloo, shiny skin-colored skin! Bye bye memories of flesh-tick, and helloo approximately 6 months before something NEW has to be burned/frozen/sliced off of me.
Gah.
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Lesson time!
If someone had told me 30 years ago to not go tanning because I as a German/Irish/English girl have skin that pretty much is guaranteed to spot/cancerify/wrinkle even with a lifetime of solar avoidance, I would have scoffed in a very teenagery way and STILL marched out into the sun with nothing but a bikini and a layer of baby oil on. It was TANNING, and therefore important! We all went out in April to get that first burn to 'set the base,' then spent an hour or more every dang day slathered in shiny oils trying to bake to a nutty brown perfection.
I freckled, mostly, which should have been a huge sign to get out of the sun, but...DISCO! BIG HAIR! Metallic eye pencils and lip gloss! TANNING! It's what you did if you were a girl and wanted to achieve 'the look.'
Also, I was a lifeguard. DingDing! You're done!
Yes, I regret it now. Of course I do, but shoot, if I hadn't spent all those years foolishly tanning my way into eventual skin cancer, then I would know the joys of the serum-tick and the sting of the liquid nitrogen, and I wouldn't therefore have written this highly gold-standard post, and your occasional life lessons from Tiff would be one lesson shorter. Plus which, NOT tanning would have made me even more nerdly than I already was, and there's no teen who should have to suffer through THAT kind of tribulation.
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In closing - Here's the a cheery weekend for everyone - one-armed hugs all around (not with the goo paw, at least not today)!
Tiff out.
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