It is Monday morning and the week looms before me like a blank canvas. Other than wait for the doctor to call with the results from my needle biopsy, I have nothing to do. My husband is going to work soon, my son has gone to Grad school orientation even though he has already taken nine credits, and I am contemplating a Word Whomp marathon to get my Pogo points up to 8 million. For those who haven’t discovered Pogo, it is an addictive website for those with nothing better to do. You can do crosswords, play trivia games, bowl like you’ve never been able to bowl with a real ball because real balls are either too heavy or have such small finger holes that once you get your fingers inside you can’t get them out so the ball hits the lane with a thump taking some of your skin with it until it lamely drifts into the gutter. In Word Whomp, you hit little moles over the head while trying to make words out of six letters. The hitting is especially satisfying.

My husband is currently in the other room screaming at a cable representative because many of the channels we pay for are still missing despite repeated calls and visits from technicians with jobs but no understanding of how to fix the problems they were sent to fix. I am in the bedroom screaming inside my head, “Maybe I could get that job! I could throw my hands up in the air and say ‘I just don’t know’ with the same authority!” And since I don’t know how to fix anything, at the very least I won’t screw it up any further. Already the customer would be ahead of the game. Instead of fixing the problem I could offer therapy! “Talk to me. Tell me why this little box is so important to you.”

I just heard my husband making another appointment for a technician to come out! This would be visit number 4! Thursday morning between 9 and 12. Well, at least now I have something to put in my calendar.