A surgery-less Friday is a great Friday, especially when Harry Potter is on the agenda

I've done what I can to prepare myself for the awesome eye-filling wonderous event called Harry Potter.

I plodded through Book 7 this week, despite the copious amounts of narcotics filling my brain.  I watched the DVD, including missing scenes, even tho the DVD makes tiny departures from the actual book.  I've got my movie outfit all lined up.  I might even buy some Twizzlers and smuggle them in.  Because I must have Twizzlers.

Today is also the day when, God willing, I'll get my final set of drains removed and therefore allowed to sleep in a horizontal position for the first time in (carries the one, divides by Ibuprofen, multiplies by bandaids) over two weeks.  Sleeping sitting up is the pits.  I'm fairly certain there's bad grammar in there somewhere.

Speaking of pits, I showered by myself for the first time in two weeks.  My pits?  Might never recover.  I tried to shave them.  But alas, a dull razor and lots of armpit hair are not friendly.  This is more than you want to know, isn't it.  Alas.

I miss my sheets.  I miss my comfy bed.  I even miss the hole in the egg crate pad by my left foot where I tugged on it too hard and ripped a chunk off.

I also aim to fold and put away some laundry and then...wait for it...CLEAN THE BATHROOM.

It's like hiking Mt. Fuji.  Is that a real mountain?  My drugs are meddling with my brain synapses.  That bathroom is so dirty I'm sure one of those TLC programs could come in and film it.  It's sicknasty.

Also, my kitchen counter looks like a pharmacy, so I really must consolidate and put away all those thingies...what are they called?  The things pills come in?

*shakes head to clear the fuzzies*

I also really must apply lotion.  I put the lotion on my skin or else I gets the hose again.

No seriously.  I really need lotion.  I am like, flaking away.  Remember that sunburn I had a few weeks ago.  Well.  No more.

My in-laws drove up to help us and then last week my poor mother in law fell and broke her foot.  Have I mentioned our last name is Murphy and there's a law written about us?  Yes.  So this week I've been on my own.  With my seven year old to take care of me.  She makes a mean pb&j.

I think I shall stop here.  Before The Drugs cause me to say something embarrassing.

Peace out.