Complaint: Oh Come ON!

Okay, it's hilarious. I'm laughing. Ha ha ha.

It's still before noon, so I understand the humor. But if this snow continues past noon, I will no longer be laughing.

Why is it that you can only pull an April Fool's joke before noon? Did I dream that? Or is it just Canadian? And is there really a difference between the two?

I'm also having a memory that my French Canadian neighbour growing up, Sylvie Toulouse, said that in her culture, people put fish on people's windshields. Was this a French-French thing, or a French-Canadian thing? I never found out. But on April 1, there was indeed a paper bag cut-out fish and a note in broken English on our windshield sayings "We hope you are not mad!" (We weren't. I mean, it wasn't a REAL fish.)

I know that happened.

Anyway, this snow is decidedly not funny.

And speaking of feeling foolish, I spent the morning suffering the minor and unpleasant indignities of the American health system. Nothing like wearing paper sheets, gowns that don't tie properly, getting your boobs smashed to the thickness of a placemat, and ultrasound wands probing the depths of your body, and, I'd add, your soul.

But hey, at least I'm writing about it!

I hate getting mammograms. I mean, they are always scary. I had a scare a few years ago and it turned out not to be a big thing, but now every time I go, I feel sort of dreadful and queasy. And then they don't TELL you anything! They said they'll send a letter, or call you, but they add, "Don't panic if we call you"! That's like saying, "Don't PEE!", after you've downed 32 ounces of water at 8:30 in the morning for a pelvic ultrasound.

I need some chocolate. I'm sure that will help.

In the meantime, I'm hoping to start Script Frenzy today, which is like National Novel Writing Month, only scripty, not novelly.

Wish me luck!