Tomorrow, at noon, I will be carved like a turkey.
Ok, FINE, it's just laparoscopic surgery, BUT STILL.
I'm not really excited for it to happen. Not because the idea of surgery really scares me. This will be the 11th surgery I've had - at this point, surgery is just kind of annoying. (Well, at least THIS surgery is. My eyeball surgeries were really painful, so yeah, those were moved beyond annoying and into NEVER AGAIN.)
The most annoying thing about having surgery is stuff like being forced to wear a hospital gown and not being allowed a bra. Because I guess it's easier to resuscitate someone during surgery when their boobs are all flopping around. Or something.
And they tell you not to wear stuff like mascara or deodorant. Which is really lame. They won't be anywhere near my eyelashes or armpits on this one, so I'm totally wearing both. And I might even have on eyeliner. And chapstick. Because I'm a huge chapstick wearing rebel. And what are they going to do? Like they're going to say, "I'm sorry, we cannot perform your surgery because your deodorant is preventing the lovely BO aroma we like to have in the operating room at all times."? I seriously doubt it. (Except when I had my eyeball surgeries they did actually tell me they'd turn me away if I was wearing makeup, and I pretty much believed them, because they were kind of mean.)
My sister asked me on saturday if I was "excited for surgery". And I said, "No, but I am excited for the pain killers I'll get after the surgery." And then she looked at me like I was either crazy or that I lead a sad sad life where the only things I get to look forward to are pain killers after surgery. And she's pretty much right. On both accounts.
On a far less depressing subject - I think Cereal (our pet praying mantis) is THIS CLOSE to death.
IT'S ABOUT TIME.
He keeps trying to climb the walls of his bug habitat but he can't seem to manage it so instead he just keeps clawing at it making really high pitched scraping noises. Kind of like miniature fingernails on a chalkboard. It's majorly obnoxious, and no matter how many times I glare at him he won't stop.
Except that now we think that Cereal has been a girl the entire time. Because his/her/it's butt has gotten MASSIVE. So either, she's going to lay eggs before she croaks, or he ate waaaaaay too many crickets and is dying from morbid obesity.
Whatever the cause, I'm rehearsing for when the actual event takes place by singing, "Ding Dong Cereal is dead" and dancing around in a Munchkin-like fashion. I just can't decide if I want to be in the Lollipop Gang or that fluffy girly group that I can't remember the name of....
Um, I'm just going to keep typing stuff now.
Opie keeps telling me about this boy at school that he likes to hang out with. And he tells me that this boy's name is Santoskitten. One word. And yes, they call him Santoskitten. Or so Opie says. So either Opie has been calling this kid something that is obviously not a real name, or Santoskitten is imaginary.
And Monkey just informed me that if I really loved him, like I say I do, I would let him do whatever he wanted. Like play computer games all day. So I guess I'll stop typing now and let him play the computer.
Ok, FINE, it's just laparoscopic surgery, BUT STILL.
I'm not really excited for it to happen. Not because the idea of surgery really scares me. This will be the 11th surgery I've had - at this point, surgery is just kind of annoying. (Well, at least THIS surgery is. My eyeball surgeries were really painful, so yeah, those were moved beyond annoying and into NEVER AGAIN.)
The most annoying thing about having surgery is stuff like being forced to wear a hospital gown and not being allowed a bra. Because I guess it's easier to resuscitate someone during surgery when their boobs are all flopping around. Or something.
And they tell you not to wear stuff like mascara or deodorant. Which is really lame. They won't be anywhere near my eyelashes or armpits on this one, so I'm totally wearing both. And I might even have on eyeliner. And chapstick. Because I'm a huge chapstick wearing rebel. And what are they going to do? Like they're going to say, "I'm sorry, we cannot perform your surgery because your deodorant is preventing the lovely BO aroma we like to have in the operating room at all times."? I seriously doubt it. (Except when I had my eyeball surgeries they did actually tell me they'd turn me away if I was wearing makeup, and I pretty much believed them, because they were kind of mean.)
My sister asked me on saturday if I was "excited for surgery". And I said, "No, but I am excited for the pain killers I'll get after the surgery." And then she looked at me like I was either crazy or that I lead a sad sad life where the only things I get to look forward to are pain killers after surgery. And she's pretty much right. On both accounts.
On a far less depressing subject - I think Cereal (our pet praying mantis) is THIS CLOSE to death.
IT'S ABOUT TIME.
He keeps trying to climb the walls of his bug habitat but he can't seem to manage it so instead he just keeps clawing at it making really high pitched scraping noises. Kind of like miniature fingernails on a chalkboard. It's majorly obnoxious, and no matter how many times I glare at him he won't stop.
Except that now we think that Cereal has been a girl the entire time. Because his/her/it's butt has gotten MASSIVE. So either, she's going to lay eggs before she croaks, or he ate waaaaaay too many crickets and is dying from morbid obesity.
Whatever the cause, I'm rehearsing for when the actual event takes place by singing, "Ding Dong Cereal is dead" and dancing around in a Munchkin-like fashion. I just can't decide if I want to be in the Lollipop Gang or that fluffy girly group that I can't remember the name of....
Um, I'm just going to keep typing stuff now.
Opie keeps telling me about this boy at school that he likes to hang out with. And he tells me that this boy's name is Santoskitten. One word. And yes, they call him Santoskitten. Or so Opie says. So either Opie has been calling this kid something that is obviously not a real name, or Santoskitten is imaginary.
And Monkey just informed me that if I really loved him, like I say I do, I would let him do whatever he wanted. Like play computer games all day. So I guess I'll stop typing now and let him play the computer.
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and I just have to say that I am already regretting reading the post below this one... my eye has been itching all day and now my doctor will think me UBER weird tomorrow when I ask him if there's a worm in there.