32,985

i did some okay writing today, if i do say so myself: 3,975 words. whew. i'm glad to be through the 20,000s, which reportedly can be a barren stretch of pain. i've had the day to write, as kara is at work, and i guess i made the most of it. good boy me. i'm done writing for today, though. i'm tired. i'll be back at it tomorrow before work, though.

this here's frank o'hara, one of my favorite poets. i didn't know frank was going to be in my story, but there he is. today he's watching over me. i referenced two of his poems in my novel today, two of my favorites, "steps" and "poem"; he surely was one for the titles, wasn't he? i like his work.

i went back to see doctor dan yesterday. unfortunately, my fats are still wonky. they're a hair better than they were, after the fish oil and an alteration of diet, but they're still wonky. i'm becoming something of a dab hand at the old phlebotomy, at least the receiving end of same. the blood nipped from my vein yesterday will be checked for iron, copper, and hepatitis. if nothing definitive is found, doctor dan threatens an ultrasound.

i'm not sure how i feel about that. part of me thinks: ooh, fun, an ultrasound! another experience, right? a bigger part of me doesn't at all want to be someone who needs an ultrasound, of course. oh well. we'll see what happens. nothing's scheduled yet. i see doctor dan again in the middle of next month.

oh, and for the past month or so i've been having migraines, so he gave me some drug samplers: zomig and relpax. i haven't tried them yet. he advised taking them at the first signs of a headache, and by the time he gave them to me i already had a headache. i took some ibuprofen this morning and now i feel all right.

is it time for my generation to start falling apart? my friend christa recently had what could be a tia and a colleague of my wife's, who is younger even than i, was just diagnosed with colon cancer. christa, for one, seems to be okay, though it's still not sure what's happening there. maybe it's my turn?

frank o'hara died at age 40 after being hit by, of all things, a beach buggy.

in other, perhaps more hopeful, news, we bought a door yesterday. we don't have the door yet but we don't have the money any more either. someone will come by the monday after thanksgiving and perform what the salesman guy called a "critical measurement." in something like eight weeks, then, a door will arrive along with people to put it in place. i look forward to that day. it will be in early 2007.