This post is about me

After my surgery, I saw it as my goal to sit on my butt for days on end. Luckily, this was also doctor-recommended, so I could easily justify such a decision. The one unfortunate piece is that sitting on my ass actually hurts after a while. The few times I looked in the mirror, I could see the deep lines imprinted in my skin as a result of simply not moving for hours. And my heels ended up hurting because I was sitting with my feet up for hours on end. My heels! Who would have thought? Ah, I learn new things every day.

Today I haven't taken any percocet at all, and it's a nice change of pace to feel alert for the first time in days. I hung on for a few hours this morning to my 'I'm recovering' card, until I got a call from The Ex asking if I can hang out when he's back in town this weekend. That's when I remembered the perks of being recovered. (Of course, I was also aware of them when I wasn't able to walk or shower with ease, but this was another reminder.) So I stopped asking for favors and walked around a little more. Now I feel like my goal is to prove to my parents that I'm healthy enough to leave for two days. Unfortunately, I can't do that and insist that they bring me juice. Too bad.

When I started taking less painkillers, I started reading more. There was a stack of books on the table next to my recovery chair (aka my ass buddy) that I intend to read before I go back to school. I finished reading Catch-22 finally, and with a twinge of guilt I selected a 'fun' book, called Stupid and Contagious. I read it in two days. Though I was taking less painkillers than before, I was still taking enough to alter my state of mind.. that's my excuse at least. Because I really liked the book, the style of writing and all that... and now I kind of want to be one of the characters.

Shut up, I know.

The thing is, we already have so much in common that it's almost like she is me. (Though I am better, of course) For example: I would definitely buy three donuts at once, no question about it. Or was it four... well, I would eat four too (my max is 8, I think). I have also looked up diseases and thought that I had them, only to find out that I was wrong (apparently I'm not bipolar? whatever..). Most importantly, I am a horrible waitress. Just awful. I could be a fabulous waitress if I only had two tables; give me three and I will freak out.

However, she also got the guy in the end, and she got a dog. So far, it's not a perfect match. *sigh* Unfortunately, I am not the main character of Stupid and Contagious. Consolation prize: I am the main character in my blog!