Whose Day Is It

Well, it's Saturday—Me Day! Or so I thought… Turns out, Chemo Session 5 may rule the day. Total BS, if you ask me. Chemo’s currently ahead on the scoreboard and swinging hard. This round? Yeah, it’s kicking my ass pretty good.

The good news? Eventually, it’ll stop winning. That shift usually comes on fast—at least it has in the first four rounds. So, we’ll just suck it up until the tide turns. I consider myself lucky it took until number five for chemo to really show its ugly side. And hey, I got a few punches in too—my hair's even grown back. Take that, you mothe—well, I’ll let your mind finish that one. Mom, I didn’t say it—they just thinking it!

Anyway, enough with the chemo rage. One more after this and we’re done. These “extra credit” rounds ain’t fun, but I figure if it’s beating me up this bad, it’s probably doing something good inside this old body of mine. That’s the mindset, and we’re sticking with it.

Alright, no more complaining. Today, one way or another, is gonna be a good day. I’m up. I’m typing. And that helps take my mind to a better place. Not sure what I’ll ramble about down 33 Highway yet—it’s not usually a Saturday thing. But I got it... I’ll go sit on the porch, enjoy my why-the-hell-are-you-still-doing-that habit, and see what the boys are up to.

Back whenever I feel like it...

Well, that didn’t go as planned.
I sat down, and Twig jumped on his wheel, turned, and looked me dead in the eye. Okay, sure—he’s in my head, so technically my brain had to make that happen, but just roll with it.

He chuckled and said, “Penthouse Dude wants a word with you, sir.”

Oh, crap.

First time I’ve ever been warned the man was coming. Usually, he just drops in unannounced, leaves me thinking, and disappears. But not today. No dramatic entrance either—he's not that kind of guy in my world.

He looked at me, full-on rolling with laughter, and pointed to the freight elevator.

That was it.

And I knew exactly what it meant.

That was all I needed.

Today is Saturday. Today is ME Day.
And Basement Dweller and Chemo Session 5?

Kiss. My. ASS.