If it wasn’t my internet connection, it was my computer. If it wasn’t my computer, it was my crazy schedule. As of right now, the score is:

Jamie vs. Internet Connection – Jamie’s Win.
Jamie vs. Schedule – Jamie’s Win.
Jamie vs. Computer – Computer Takes It.

Apparently, my surge “protector” failed to do just that, and I’ve blown up one bit of the box or another, depending on whom you ask. I hope I find time to get it taken care of this week.

Oh, I forgot one battle:

Jamie vs. More Cancer – Cancer’s ahead, but we’ll see how this match turns out.

I’m doing the “holding my head high,” thing, because the family has once again gotten some crap news. I have two grandparents left – my mom’s dad, and my dad’s mom. In the span of a single week, both of them were diagnosed with cancer. Neither of them are in that perky, “It’s only the in the beginning stages and I can FIGHT it,” area, either. They’re both pretty far along.

How fair is that?

So, I went through several reactions.

I started out feeling very sad and blue. That lasted about a day and a half.

Next, I sort of snickered every time I thought about it. That probably sounds cold and horrible, but I explain: It’s ridiculous, people! Ridiculous! I just lost my mom this summer, and now I feel like I’m the verge on losing at least one but possibly two grandparents – and why? Because of CANCER! Again, cancer! That’s just stupid, okay? It’s not really happening. It’s a joke, and it’s funny. Snicker, snicker. My job is going to stop believing me, and start responding to my time-off requests with, “Jesus, Jamie. If you want a day off, just tell us. Quit making up all these family members with cancer. Or at least come up with something more creative… if we’re going to listen to your crap excuses, we’d like a little variety here. Bypass surgery, Alzheimer’s, MS, skydiving accident involving a faulty parachute… something other than CANCER, for Pete’s sake. You’ve blown that horn enough.” The inappropriate snickering lasted about three days, and still occasionally pops up.

And then I started to get mad. And a little paranoid, like a stoner unable to console himself with a pan of brownies.

First, it was the universe. A Curse! My family has been hit by a Cancer CURSE! I need a witch doctor, post-haste!

Then, I reached another level of paranoia – what if it’s ME? What if everyone I care about is doomed to die from cancer? STOP READING THIS! YOU COULD BE NEXT! RUN WHILE YOU STILL CAN! I’m the King Midas Of Tumorville.

The paranoia has subsided, but the anger is still there. I’m doing that thing where I just mash everything down and smile and look pretty and be loud a lot, because I don’t know what else to do.

At least I have some great stories to tell you guys. I’ve been writing the entire time I was away from the journal, and hope to post most of the stuff this coming week. But I don’t want you guys to think me callous in the face of grief – this stuff happened and was written pre-diagnoses. And maybe it’ll cheer me up to share them with you, so… Don’t judge me, okay?

Just because I’m funny doesn’t mean I’m not sad. Or angry. Or paranoid. It really depends on what time it is and how much coffee I’ve had.