Ouch

Sometimes I wonder if I have a brain tumor. It's more likely that I'm just stressed and my system is telling me to cut it out. I still want modern medicine to replace my useless fingers for something more like Luke Skywalker's hand, and while they're at it, give me an electronic brain that won't complain so much about being squishy organic matter. It's too easy to get sad when the body fails to perform the way it's supposed to. I'm working on swallowing that and moving on with my bouncy self. It's a process.