We had Lark's birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese's today. Loud, bright, full of motion and commotion and people talking and did I mention LOUD? It's physically painful for me to be that overstimulated. Ugh. But the kids loved it, which makes up for my discomfort.

I saw the ENT. He said that the sore on my tongue looked healed, and he saw nothing suspicious. I suppose that's a weight off my mind...

No, actually, I guess it isn't. See, if I knew I was in the process of winding down this life, I'd be able to prioritize so much more easily. Which is more important, visit Europe or go to college? well, if I'm not looking at having to support myself for the next indefinite number of years, Europe wins. If not, I have to think, really think, about what I'm going to do...how I'll ever be able to live on my own. I'm so worried that I'll sink in this sink-or-swim world; I fear I'll never be able to retire, or buy a house, or that I won't be able to afford the costly health and dental care I'll require. If I knew I'd be dead in, say, four years, I wouldn't have to worry about my friends dying before I do and leaving me alone. I wouldn't have to worry that by the time I'm sixty there will be cures for everything but nobody except multi-millionaires will be able to afford them.

Oh, for the certainty of terminality, I guess.

Tomorrow--well, I guess now I mean today--I see the ENT. I'm scared. It's not that I'm scared about the possibility of dying; I've dealt with that before. I'm scared of what may happen to me *before* i die. I'm drinking a lot of beer tonight in an attempt not to be so scared...

There are two extremely cute baby cottontail rabbits living under my porch. Both were out today, chasing each other through the yard. I put out some pieces of bread, but I don't think they took them. If I were going to be here much longer I'd love to get the rabbits accustomed to me, maybe even tame them...

Something reminded me of Gena today. I wonder how she's doing? I heard she's living with someone--maybe married now. I wonder if he loves her, if he's an abusive ass like the boyfriends I saw her with were. She had a problem of confusing love and hate, believing, I think, that if a guy hated her in just the right way, his love would consume them both. A couple of weeks ago I thought of sending her a book that I think she'd relate to, but I hesitated. What if she doesn't remember me? What if she doesn't want to think about it anymore? The book's still packaged, with a nice chatty hi-how-are-you letter in it, inside my car.

Maybe someday I'll send it. I'm not sure.

Feeling terribly insecure and under-confident today. What if I can't handle living on my own? I'm scared...

Otter took Lark to a Cubs game and then to the Bucks playoff game. They were gone most of the day and night, so Lark and I sat at home watching cartoons and playing. Lark told me this joke: "Why does T-Rex go to the bathroom?" Me: "I dunno, why?" Lark: "He has to POOP!" He thought this was hilariously funny. I love four-year-old humor.

Tonight I'm drinking a little too much. I've been stressing over the Evergreen thing and the cancer thing, so I'm trying to obliterate my worries with Guinness. It is helping.

Busy day. I took the kids up to the Public Museum to see the replica of Sue the T-Rex with their cousins. We all had a good time, and I didn't get lost, even with all that freeway driving. As a bonus, I got to talk in-depth with Otter's aunt, who is a psychologist and interested in many of the same big questions I am. The one that's compellingly on my mind these days is whether consciousness is created by the brain, or is "located" somewhere else. I want to believe that consciousness is holographic, pure information not tied to matter or energy-as-physics-knows-it, and that this point-of-consciousness I think of as "me" will go on after my brain no longer exists. Much of the time, I do manage to believe it; but then some days, like today, my skeptical side takes over and I start thinking, if selfhood isn't created by the brain, why does brain damage affect personality? Unfortunately, no one else has figured out the answer either--at least not in a way that can be proven.

I really wish someone could tell me, "Relax, the best is yet to come," and make it be true.