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Hello peoples I am Dana, friend of Jackie, and collaborator on this blog. I have truly flaked out on writing, and I'm sure I could list off a bunch of excuses, but i'll go ahead and spare anyone who is actually reading this. In order to get myself back in the groove of contributing here, I am just going to sort of update/ramble. Here goes nothing... So I spent an interesting summer house hunting, and my boyfriend and I are now finally in our new home. I can definitely say the energy that it took to find/buy/move into/begin minor renovations has truly been...grueling. On the same note it's been totally rewarding and all that cliche-buying your first home-bullshit. I have a really awesome neighbor who is nearing eighty, living alone, and certified schizophrenic. She has decided that I am her new best friend, so I've taken to sticking post it notes on my front door which read "do not disturb" when I truly cannot deal with crazy babble coming from an elderly lady in her granny panties (no, i'm totally serious). Sometimes this actually works, although posting notes on my door makes me feel a little crazy as well. Even though crazy old neighbor lady is totally endearing sometimes, I remain slightly leery given her fragile mental state. Speaking of fragile mental states, I could probably touch on my own, but I'll save that for another post. 

So I have also just begun school again, as was the plan pre-diagnosis. While I won't say that MS has totally overhauled my plans, I have made a change in my major as well as decided to completely finish my degree online. Both my doctor and my neuropsychologist had suggested that I take school quite slow, and against my better (yes, better) judgement, I am only taking eight credits this term. I have already found myself wishing for a bit more to do, so needless to say, lesson learned. At the same time, there is that little issue of not quite knowing what one day to the next will bring, and tomorrow I might be thanking my lucky stars for so few classes. The unexpected twists and turns in how I am feeling has been by far the most irritating part of this disease for me. I am still working a humble three days a week at the coffee shop, which is the least I have worked in my seven (yes, seven) years there. When I space out on whether I have charged someone, or work to get some flipping straws through lid (who even drinks coffee with straws?) I just make a big fat joke about how I'm getting too old for this job or I've had too much caffeine. Laughter is the best medicine, although some people have shit for a sense of humor. To those people, I smile and make a secret wish that they spill coffee on their crotch.