I’m trying to distract myself from the “What ifs.” The “What ifs” are relentless and pointless and every where, like when the radio plays the same five songs all summer. The “What ifs” could be a really annoying pop band.
My “What ifs” are probably like anyone else’s worries.
- What if I’m really out of time?
- What if I’m not strong enough?
I joke with my boyfriend about not having 24 years to wait for him to propose. It’s funny but kind of not as funny as it used to be.
Tomorrow, I go for the mammogram. Then we wait for more news. Until then, I’ll be home watching “Mean Girls.”