I’ve been informed that there has been an increase in yellow-haired people roaming in this city. But because I am currently the only yellow-haired friend my friends have, they’ve been telling me about their sightings to make sure I know I’m not special.

It’s true, though. My decision to go yellow was influenced by a drag queen anyway. Soon to be incorporated in my wardrobe: a vinyl beret.

My cyst mentor asked me yesterday how my lump was feeling and gave it a name: Calvin. It took three hours for that joke to hit me. I was in the middle of mashing my pizza dough when I went, “HOHOHO. CALVIN. I GET IT NOW. CALF-IN!” I promptly texted him to congratulate him on a pun well done.

The doctor’s office never got back to me with the results of my x-ray, so I called the office on Monday. I called through the video relay service, which I am not a fan of, because I feel the need to make myself look somewhat presentable. I know these interpreters are professionals, but they also people I potentially know in real life. More than that, to use this service, I need to be somewhere with a reliable internet connection, which rules out making calls at work during my break.

I had to wait until my day off to learn of Calvin’s origins.

Continue reading “Chummy chump.” →