Good morning, John.

Every year in Missoula,  there is an adorable little event where children and also a lot of adults  dress up like animals and parade through downtown. And it's good, and it's  wonderful, and everybody loves it.  And last year, this event fell on the day after I found out I probably had cancer.

But before I found out I definitely had cancer, this was bad times,   but it was a fairly narrow window, at least for me, just a couple of weeks. And I definitely did want to sort of, like, lay and stare at the ceiling that day. But instead, I went with my family to the parade,  and it was the worst adorable  parade I've ever been to.

Physiologically impaired by my anxiety. Like, I could not stand up for very long.  I had to keep sitting down. I kept thinking, like, I need to be here.

Maybe I'll never see this event again. I need to enjoy this while I can. Why am I physically incapable of enjoying this?

That same parade again just happened because earth day just happened,  and I had kind of convinced myself that I couldn't go thinking about, like,  being there with all the same  sounds and sights and people in the same place. I just obviously really didn't want to relive it. And then Orin said he wanted me to come, so I went, and it was not great.  It was fine.

Like, there were moments that were truly lovely,  and I'm really glad that I did it, but it was definitely the second   worst adorable parade I've ever been to. But the gap between that one and the worst one is pretty big. I'm starting to feel that, like, we're heading into the time,  like, as all these anniversaries happen, where I'm just gonna.

Like, lots of things are gonna be reminding me of the last year, and that's scary. And, like, it makes me think  of all kinds of things.  It makes me think, like, how would  I deal with it if I relapsed? Like, how would I talk about it online?

How would my body react?  I've consistently been wrong about this. Like, I'm all like, you do not know how  you are going to react until it's happening.  Like, right now, I feel like  I'd probably be fine, but, like,  if it happened, I wouldn't. I know I wouldn't be, but I feel like I would be.

And I know that because when I do start to imagine  that I might be in that situation for one reason or another, like,  I do not react in calm ways. Like, my body does not feel calm about it. So I don't know if it's useful to think about, but I do think about it,  and one weird thing that helps me is actually going through, like,  what I tweeted in, like, the same period of time as last year.

So, like, this time last year,  I thought I probably had cancer. I didn't know for sure, and I did. I tweeted some things that  were suspicious, you know,  like, I canceled some events for health reasons, and people were like, oh, I hope you're okay.

But I also tweeted about hockey and about the Mars Trilogy,  which I was, you know, was the first novel I ever loved. And I was rereading it  because it was distracting me.  And I tweeted about Pluto, and. And I tweeted this,   like, that's that.

Like, I was still me. That parade wasn't the same this year. It was different enough that I didn't feel it  all sort of crash down on me all at once, like I was afraid it would.

My son's class was bugs last year, and they were fish this year.  That's totally different. Bugs are different from fish.  Is there a metaphorical resonance to bugs are different from fish?  Am I a fish now? Was I a bug before?

Are things different from before? Can I convince my brain of that? How long does it take to go from being, like,  rationally terrified to  being irrationally terrified,  not being terrified anymore?

Are these questions for my therapist   and not my YouTube channel? Yes.  This is somewhat worsened by the fact that I was diagnosed the day before my 43rd birthday.  I just feel like birthdays might be a little different for me moving forward. But I do, like, objectively know that my 44th birthday will not be like my 43rd,  because bugs are different from fish.

John. I'll see you on Tuesday also. John, today and today only,  you can join the awesome socks club or rejoin if you had too many socks.

And now you need socks again.  And the first pair of socks  that you get will cost you $5.  That's with free shipping. So it really is just $5. Cause you're gonna have to buy socks somehow,  and you might as well do it in a way where you get a little surprise on your doorstep  every month, and you never know  what they're gonna look like,  but you know they're gonna  look awesome and feel awesome.

This is this month's sock. You will not get this one,  but this one's really good. And also, it makes the world a better place,  because 100% of the profit from that and all of the stuff at good.store goes to  decrease maternal and child  mortality in Sierra Leone.

The introductory sock price  is going to go up $1 per day.  So if it's Saturday, your first socks are $6. If it's Sunday, seven, 8, 9, 10.  And I'm sock, and I'm taking over Hank's Instagram  and TikTok and YouTube shorts  for the next five days. It's true.

He was very   insistent about it, so I've let it happen. But I'm gonna take over the good.store accounts.  I'll put links to those in the description. Wherever that is.  I don't know anymore.

But yeah, today.  And today only $5 for your first socks at the awesome socks club.  If you wanna join up, get a little bit of extra delight in your life  and also make the world a better place with the awesome socks club. That's how we do. John, it is true.

Your movie will be out before my next video. If anybody signs up for Max  just to watch the movie,  you should sign up and then watch it immediately  so that whoever runs that  company knows why it's happening. I cannot wait to watch it.

I hope that you're having an okay time  on your press tour. I just talked to you on the phone and I know you're a little overwhelmed,  but look, we're doing it.