The fact that it was like 85 degrees in northeastern Massachusetts in March automatically made it an epic day. But, oh, that doesn't begin to describe HOW epic.
I headed into Brookline in the morning for my semi-annual skin checkup. These appointments at the dermatologist's office always cause me a little anxiety because my mother died of skin cancer, and I am very fair. I spent my childhood all the way through my college summers in various shades of red (sunburn, that is) -- whether at a beach club in my hometown, a sleepaway camp in Maine, or a club I worked at as a lifeguard and swimming instructor. And my nose? It peeled constantly. I should have a completely bare bone for a proboscis right now.
Without going into detail about my condition, let's just say that I've had countless spots treated since I started getting checked the year after my mother passed on. They've been sprayed, sliced away, biopsied, or removed surgically in a hospital. The fact is: I simply cannot leave an appointment without something having been done to me. It's been this way for as long as I can remember.
So when I got out of there a few days ago after only a handful or so of sprayings, I was downright elated. It had been a full year since I had missed my previous appointment.
Sometimes I get a happy feeling.
To celebrate, I drove over to Harvard Square and treated myself to my favorite dark chocolate drink at L.A. Burdick. Then I photographed it with my iPhone and posted it to my Facebook page. Okay, the chocolate servers helped me as I had never done that before. But I felt satisfied at the small achievement and confident I would be able to do it again without assistance.
Sometimes I get a proud feeling.
Back in the car, bopping out to Flo Rida's infectious "Good Feeling," I missed the exit for 128N that I have taken a billion times. Argh. Turned myself around and next missed the exit to my favorite store! How odd. What was wrong with me?
Sometimes I get an unbalanced feeling.