Last night was a very late one - with some self-inflicted delays as well.  The reason I mention that is because this posting is probably a shade earlier than usual.  That's because I will probably crash and burn by 8PM.

Why?

Well, let me review the activities of the past twenty-eight hours or so...  [Insert flashback music and sound effects here]

Yesterday at work, we had an all day staff development meeting.  Typically, these meetings adjourn between 1:45 and 2:15 to allow for reasonable commutes back to work sites or home.  (Our school is comprised of 5 campuses presently - and growing - so many of the staff travel long miles.)

Yesterday's meeting followed a slightly different format.  They did skip "Employee Recognition" and I was hoping it might be my turn this time...  Apparently, I think more of myself than they do of me :(  Although, from a positive standpoint, that represents a sea change in my attitude; normally, I'm fretting that I have no clue what the heck I'm doing, and fear they're going to can my ass at any moment.  (I made sure that autospell didn't turn that into 'cane my ass,' that would have been a whole different connotation...)

Anyway, nice to see my confidence and comfort growing.  Being a closet pessimist is difficult business.  You have to ignore all the positive things surrounding you, then focus on some minute negative - often one invented in the deepest, darkest recesses of your own fears.  But I know I'm doing a great job at work!! (Now, if I could only tame that paper dragon - administrivia is my kryptonite!)

Anyway, we were still going strong at 2:30 in a voluntary session.  Unfortunately, sometimes 'voluntary' doesn't really mean 'voluntary', and this was likely one of those times.  Normally, this would not be a big deal, but when is my life ever normal?  {What the heck!!!  Sorry - sirens are going off here - the hyperbole police just showed up and gave me a warning.  Okay, okay, let me not be a drama queen (he said while rolling his eyes).}

No, I had decided that Monday would be a perfectly good day to leave early (at the typical end time of 2PMish) and head 'down the hill' to Palm Springs to get my medical records in advance of my visit with the surgeons on Thursday.  I had picked this day and time because after swooping in for my records, I had to drive to San Bernardino to teach my 6PM class; and this schedule would have allowed me to get to my doctor's office before they closed, and then to SB by 5PM or so.

Well, I hung in there at the meeting until about 2:40, when I informed my boss that I was going to (in the words of my old pal, Snagglepuss) exit, stage left...

So, other than worrying that I was stepping out early on an 'optional' meeting, my plan was working flawlessly.  (Cue the evil laugh... That's good, thank you.)  Well, at least until driving approximately 8 miles to the west.  Then stopping 8 miles to the west.  Then standing outside my car 8 miles to the west.  For one hour and fifteen minutes... 8 miles to the west.  The problem was, I had to go more than 8 miles to the west. Now, let's be honest.  This is California, after all.  Traffic tie-ups like this are not only commonplace, they are expected - heck, they even have a name - a Sigalert!  Well, this particular Sigalert (BTW: research the origin of Sigalert - especially if you live in LA and you hear it on AM radio every day and only know it means DANGER, DANGER, WILL ROBINSON!!!) was the result of an accident in a very familiar place... The dreaded (brrrr) Morongo Grade.

Every California canyon has an outlet, and this one happens to occur near an oft-used left hand turn (North Indian Canyon).  Add construction at that intersection, and you have a recipe for disaster (wait - go away! Damn hyperbole police again!).  So, apparently someone failed to stop when the person in front of them had already concluded their forward progress, and you have - in the parlance - a TC (Traffic Collision, for the uniformed - puhlease, try to keep up, people). Don't make me eye-roll you again.

So, this particular TC shuffled my schedule a little bit.  By the time it was cleared and traffic was free to move about the country, I had missed my window of opportunity to make it to the doctors office on time  for my records.  Given that I couldn't make this side trip, I was actually now ahead of schedule.  Sooo... What did I do with that hour?  Well, I gave in to the gambling Jones.  I got a nice fat paycheck from UOP on Friday, and I felt a little 'flush' and decided that I could risk 100 bucks in the hopes of making more...

I pass Casinos all  the time, 98% of those without incident.  Yesterday was not one of those.  Yesterday, there was an incident... or three.

When I have a limited budget (see: Anytime post-2006), I like to play Pai-Gow.  Pai-Gow Poker is fun and your money can last a long time.  The basic rules:  You get 7 cards.  You separate them into a 2 card hand and a 5 card hand.  Your 5 card hand must beat your 2 card hand.  That is the ONLY rule.  Everything else is personal preference and interpreting the odds.  Speaking of the odds, here is why the money lasts so long: You simply compare your 2 card hand the dealers (and the same with the 5 card hand).  You beat both their hands = WINNER, WINNER, CHICKEN DINNER.  You then pay the house a 5% commission on your winnings (this is how the house maintains it's margin.)  You lose both hands, the house takes the cash :(   If you lose one, win one, it's a push.  This is common.  There is also a bonus bet ($1-$50) typically, which pays out based on the probability of drawing a certain hand (full house, flush, straight, etc.)  The payouts for this small bet (I usually bet either 5 or 10 bucks) can be substantial.  My best win ever was four of a kind, I think, and it paid over 400 scoots for a 5 dollah investment.  [I start talking gambling and my lingo changes; interesting...]

Bottom line:  I lose a hundred bucks in about 20 minutes.  Out the door I go.  But, wait... I have 30 dollars left in the wallet, I'm going to throw 20 in a slot machine - and then, I promise, that's it!  (Every gambler has uttered those words with equal parts hope and conviction.)  Well, I chose a machine near the traffic, and one with old-fashioned mechanical reels (the electronic ones are just, I don't know, weird...).  I put in the 20 and switched the denomination from nickels to quarters.  I tried to hit the "Max Bet" button, but I hadn't put in enough money. I had, however, put in all I was going to...  [Max Bet is the only way to get progressive jackpots and the larger payouts.  I try to Max Bet whenever I can, but slot machines are pretty damn complicated now.]

I fumbled around trying to figure out my bet, and I pressed the buttons indicating 40 lines and 2 quarters per line.  So, that's 80 quarters (or 20 bucks); I'm all in.  The tumblers go around and in a zig-zag pattern, linked with a 3X wild card and a 2X wild card, I had five 7's.  The machine lit up and the payout counted up - I never have any idea how high it's going to go because, again, the machines are too darn complicated.  Well, it stopped on 856 or some such and I said "Payout" and took that ticket with $214.00 printed on it right to the cashiers window.  I took those two crisp (when did we redesign the Gallagher notes again?) I had dos one Hundred Dollar bills, a ten, and four ones, and I hightailed it out of there so glad I listened to my little voice...

I got to San Berdoo with enough time to take a nap, which was nice.  I had a damn good statistics class and headed home about 9:50 (class is supposed to get out at 10, but...).  At that hour, I calculated that I'd be home around 11:10 or so and hit the hay by 11:30.  I felt good and ignored (most of) the idiots trying to race me down The Ten towards Beaumont. People, please - this is my home track!

I almost passed up the casino exit, but that little voice inside my head said, "Hey, pssst.  Over here... You know that 300 dollars you need for those new struts?  Yes. Yes, I do.  Okay, well, you won a hundred of it already, you've got two crisp 100 dollar bills in your pocket, you are riding high, YOU CAN'T LOSE!

Next time, when they ask me big bills, or twenties, I'm going for the twenties.  That feels like spending money.  Real money.  Useful money.  I mean, what am I going to do with 2 one hundred dollar bills?

Gamble them.

And lose them, of course.

When I arrived home 2 minutes shy of midnight, the self-flagellation had tapered off, finally giving way to rationalization and even forgiveness.  The adrenaline, however, still ebbed until 1AM or so, and my first alarm this morning (6AM) was greeted by a person already an hour awake.  (Diuretics and an enlarged prostate do not make good bedfellows - any of my brethren diagnosed with PC, and also taking diuretics [in my case for hypertension], I urge you to get healthy and minimize the dosing of your diuretics.  Thankfully, I was able to reduce my dose from 50mg/day down to 12.5mg/day - and the attendant bathroom visits by about the same ratio, 4:1)

So, that's a very long-winded (the hyperbole police snoozed through that understatement...)  way of telling you why I'm tired tonight and this post will probably be brief...  (Even though I started at 6:39PM and Mickey just pointed the big hand to the 12, and the little to the 8.)

Well, that's a blog entry.

I have to get something to eat.  Hang on.

When next I write, I hope I remember to tell you why I'm so fortunate.  The reasons are manifold, but there is one in particular that merits my attention next...  [Here is a secret clue for me, should I forget tomorrow. Of course, I don't re-read these entries, so what good is a hint embedded here?  Oh, bother...]

Think 'Christmas'  [That's the hint]

Tonight, instead of students taking us to the close, I'm turning to Walt Whitman.  Robin Williams brought these words to life for me in 'Dead Poets Society', and - even though Carpe Diem was seared so far into my subconsciousness that I got it tattooed on my arm (my only tattoo, mind you), it's as if I am hearing those words now for the first time.

Ladies, gentlemen, and others, may I present to you, Mr. Walt Whitman.

I'm sorry.  I can't do justice to Whitman right now.  All I can say to Mr. Whitman, and Mr. Williams, and Mr. Keating, is thank you. Thank you! THANK YOU for the passion you instilled in me just reading the title, O Me! O Life! let alone to hear the answer ringing my head:

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.   

The sound of those words in my ears sent me out under the incredible canopy of the stars and I dropped to my knees and soaked in the vastness, the stars, the air, the possibilities...

Forget the disclaimer above: No cliffhanger, here is the truth, writ large:

CANCER IS A GIFT

My bodies alarm clock just went off.  I'm GLAD it's now.  I'm GLAD it's me.  I'm GLAD and I'm ready. I'm ready to contribute my verse!!  And, there is no doubt that the healthy choices I am making now will prolong my life by years - perhaps decades. I'll take the jarring noise of that alarm clock to start this brand new day.

It's now 10:19PM. Blogging ain't always pretty.