Yesterday was not a good day.

I have talked to more extended family in 48 hours than in the last six months.

My cell phone is snugly in my pocket or beside me, just waiting to ring.

Only two numbers matter: systolic and diastolic.

If the news had been any less positive this morning I would be driving back down.

There is a post-it on my desk with scribbled words and thoughs on how to pull this together in a nice, neat little package if only to aid in digestion.

Today has started good.

Yesterday started good as well, then quickly turned to crap.