My surgeon is a really funny person. This morning he wanted to know if I had any questions. I told him that, since I'm a librarian I felt obligated to do an Internet search on gallstones and I felt informed enough. So of course he felt obligated to quiz me and show me how uninformed I really am and how wrong the information on the Internet is. I told him he should share his wisdom with the National Library of Medicine. He said the problem with that information is that it's not written by surgeons. OK, he won that round. Anyway, gallstones are really crystallized cholesterol. That I knew. They become symptomatic for some reasons we know and some reasons we don't know. Pregnancy is a reason (not mine). Obesity (probably not mine). Sudden weight loss (maybe mine). I reviewed this yesterday. He also reassured me that he has never had to turn a laparoscopic surgery into an open surgery because of a previous gyno. surgery. Of course, he's never operated on me. But it was very reassuring to talk to him, and I told him I really, really wanted to keep my surgery simple. He said he would do that for me. Then we talked about enjoying solitude and he wanted to know if he could SCUBA dive at Silver Lake. I said the bottom is very murky. Then we talked about the importance of good transcription services, because he called in his dictation of my case to the hospital's service while I was there. He spoke really, really quickly and I commented on it. He said they can slow it down. He said they have a woman who comes in once a week, picks up his tapes from his office, types up the transcripts, drops them off & picks up the next tape, etc. Works out of her home. HEY! I want that job! He said good transcribers are really hard to find. This is maybe what I can do when I retire, work part-time doing this. I like to type and I used to love doing transcription from tapes. No interaction necessary, just you and the machine. Type fast and correct your own errors. Yes, I like the sound of it. Buy myself a medical dictionary and a good computer, work from home.

And now it's back to cataloging Port Henry's metallurgical and mining collection. yawn. ABC of iron and steel. Iron ores of the Clinton formation. Geology of Elizabethtown and Port Henry. But today I can have music on because the woman on the other side of my cubicle is out and no one else can hear it.

AND AND AND today is the last REAL day of the director's career. After this she becomes merely a part-time, interim employee here. And the sun is shining, appropriately. Tomorrow it is not supposed to, after the morning at least. Hopefully I will get out of bed early enough to enjoy some sun and work in my yard a little. This morning I shut off the alarm, thinking "I think it's Saturday and I don't have to go to work so I'll go back to sleep." I woke just after 7 and realized I had to leave for work by 7:20 at the latest. I barely made it and, after stopping at the Cadyville Gulf Station for the mandatory cup of coffee (where the owner always says, "Hi Kiddo!" to me), I was 5 minutes late for work.

I got most of the brunette of my hair cut off last night. It's short, very short. Spiky short, sticks up on top. To my hairdresser's disappointment, I opted out of a perm and instead had it shorn. I decided I don't want hair, I want short, really short. I'd have it shaved if that were socially acceptable. Anyway, she said the coloring I administered myself (always embarrassing to admit you did it yourself to your hairdresser) won't wash out of my hair, I'll have to wait for it to grow out. And why did I do that, anyway? I was bored and I'll never do it again, I swear. I do not look good as a brunette, no I do not. I'm a blonde, even if it's not light blonde, my hair is naturally blonde.