Last night, on the advice of Kymm, Eric and I went to see Galaxy Quest. I had to do some heavy convincing to get Eric there, and when we sat down and he began to notice the number of people bringing their kids in, he muttered, "This had better be good." He was not disappointed; we haven't howled like that since we gave up cable! I think I'll take all my movie recommendations from Kymm from now on.

This morning I had to get up early to sit in on the library's Preschool Fair. Literally; I mean, I sat in a corner from 9:30 until 2:30, blandly grinning at all the parents coming in the door. What a waste. The minutes crawled by like hours, until I felt I could claw my own eyes out if I had to hear one more parent sigh in dismay when told that most of the preschools would only take their three-year-old for half a day. Um, it's not a daycare center, folks. (Goody for them, though; at least one of the schools contracts with a local daycare and will shuttle your child over there after school...) A more clucky crowd, I haven't been among in years.

Got home and called mom again. It's not cancer! What it is, though, is Hashimoto's disease. Apparently, her body doesn't like her thyroid very much and was producing antibodies to attack it. She started exhibiting symptoms of hypothyroidism after the thyroid was damaged enough to impair its function. While there is a chance that her antibodies will continue to attack the remaining lobe, a book I picked up today claims that the Synthroid she's on (and will be on for the rest of her life) tends to discourage that.

Hashimoto's... It's linked to arthritis, eye problems, Type 1 Diabetes, dyslexia, and a whole host of other problems. It's also genetic. Thank God I'm temping; if my pre-ovulatory temps start dropping, I'll know to go back in and have my thyroid checked again. Hypothyroidism has that effect on temps. It doesn't usually strike before age forty, though. Fun stuff to anticipate, I guess.

Mom's feeling better, but still gets dizzy once in a while. She says she feels like she swallowed a bone and it's stuck in her throat. I hope it goes away soon. My father goes in for surgery next. He's been having shoulder problems for some time now, and a recent MRI showed something; he'll hear the results on Monday. Lovely.

We spent the remainder of the evening at the bookstore. The primary purpose of our voyage was to look at books on Photoshop for me. What luck; I found two O'Reilly books right off the bat! While Eric looked for his own books, I grabbed a copy of Mothering and a book on Bach Flower Essences, and we headed for a table.

No empty tables. We stood over the bins of sale books and cast dirty glances at the people browsing over the last few crumbs of their scones.

Eventually somebody got up, and I hurled my coat over the abandoned chair. Eric had wandered off in the meantime, forcing me to sprint through the store, trailed by my own collection of dirty glances, searching. He turned up, I collected him, and we sat down to read over a large bottle of organic apple juice. (Gotta love those bookstore cafes.)

I wanted both O'Reilly books. I got neither, because we both came to the realization that the purchase of said books would be impractical until I actually got a copy of full Photoshop outside of the one provided by the library. The magazine was good, but not good enough to warrant buying, as was the Bach book. We finished our juice and returned to browsing.

I decided I wanted a fiction book. After perusing the shelves, I remarked, "It's been so long since I've chosen a book that wasn't specifically recommended to me that I've almost forgotten how." Eric mumbled something and headed off toward the magazines. I kept searching; after a while I found that I was searching more out of stubbornness than for any real desire for a new book. Still, I grabbed a new copy of The Lord of the Rings before returning to Eric. He raised his eyebrows.

"You're getting that?"
"Yeah."
"You're going to read it?"
"That's rather why I'm getting it."
"Uh-huh."

Not sure in what his doubts were grounded. Not that it matters; I changed my mind, and The Lord of the Rings ended up back on the shelf. We walked out of the store with nothing at all. I sighed.

"I'm sad."
"Why?"
"I didn't get a book."
"Then get one."
"I'm not buying a book just to buy a book. I work in a library; if I want to read, I can get a book there."
"Then what?"
"Forget it."

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