You ever notice that? Cancer diagnoses come in November. And the return of old friends. Sort-of novels sort-of get written. Sometimes they don't. Normally freaky freaks me out. No really, it's true. I love my chaos but I've found I love it more in tiny bite-sized morsels, like chocolate chips in a cookie. Cookie isn't as good without them but too many and it ceases being a cookie. What was I saying again?