I am getting really panicky about the cost of this CR Four Seasons trip. This is the first luxurious trip I have shouldered the finances for, and I think I'm beginning to see what people mean by realizing 'the value of money.' Ugh. Real life. Not awaiting--it's here, and I'm not ready.
Eight months since diagnosis to cure, and I feel like I had no transition time. It was sick to health to full health to whirlwinds of activity and, well, I'm thinking I probably should have set aside this month to completely chill, formulate a game plan and breathe. Instead I'm running around like a schizophrenic.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You can see the photos from my bday party here and here.

I'm in super-high-anxiety mode. Like I'm freaking out over here. I really hope Dr. L can talk me down from this my-life-is-a-mess-clothes-don't-fit-making-dad's-bday-gift-vegas-related ledge. I must do yoga tonight. Must must must figure out how to edit in iMovie. Help? The fucking Macbook didn't come with individ instruction manuals for programs. WTF??


Okay, I'm going to find a paper bag to breathe into.