I knew this would happen.

Day 1 of surgical recovery time: I just bought three dresses from HSN and a quilt set from Brylane Home.

I'm doomed.

Tomorrow is "Cut Me Open" Wednesday

I'm nervous. They're doing it arthro-style, and depending upon what they see in there (torn stuff, arthritis, squirrels, whatever), I'll leave with two Band-Aids, a knee brace, and some crutches. They're going to put me under, too, which is also scary, because if I get a dude that's had too much coffee or is just weird in general, I could come out with permanent drool. I'm also home-bound for a week. Yeah, I'll be going crazy. You know I'm going to be one of those people who starts buying their clothes and shit off the QVC, because that's what shut-in folk DO. I'm sure I don't have enough cubic zirconia or caftans. Or ab squeezers. Or makeup made out of talcum powder. Or blue topaz. Or multipurpose blenders shaped like bullets.

On the upside: PERCOSETS. YAY!

Surgery

Fuck.

My sister drives me nuts

I have two sisters, but only one drives me crazy. Why, you ask? She's the least helpful person in any situation. I cooked Easter dinner at my mom's this weekend (my mom has trouble with her shoulders, so she can't really lift or stir anything. Her job is to tell me what to do.). My sister, who still lives with my parents and pays no rent or any household bills whatsoever, set the table. That's it. Even then, as I'm running between rooms with hot food and knives, she's sitting there asking me to get stuff for her. I managed not to kill her; I'm proud of myself for that. How does somebody get that lazy? By the time I went home that night, I was wiped out. I'm sure she was exhausted from lifting her fork. Yes, that was unkind, but I'm only human.

Today is my brother's birthday

Happy birthday, bro. I wish you all the happiness in the world.