Cindy's apartment

Now I have figured out why no one dies of breast cancer. because the treatment takes so long that people just die of old age first. So this is probably a good thing. i cannot complain about having cancer, or recovering from it right now. I have watched every tv show there is since being home from work and have now resorted to reading. If I were at my house, i would be reading trash mystery novels, if at bev's house, trash romance novels. But I am at Cindy's, so I am reading trash autobiographies of people who have turned horrible lives around against all odds. Just finished a book by someone named Cupcake Brown who had a horrible abusive early life with drugs, gangs, violence, etc. and then climbed out of it to become (and what could be better than this) a lawyer. So now I think about how terrible her life was and whining about cancer does not seem fair, since I certainly had it easier than her, of course we both ended up being lawyers anyway. Of course theses episodes of empathy for others rather than sympathy for myself generally last 24 hours or less, so I will be whining about cancer again very soon.