I am seriously sleep deprived......... I've been staying up so late, probably because I don't want to be alone with my thoughts in the dark of my room at night. I'm never really alone though with my cats blanketing (hah, I can't think blanket without instantly thinking Michael Jackson), me, but without visual or auditory stimulation my creative mind runs wild.
I lost another three pounds but I probably gained it all back today when I bought three dozen macaroons and ate about ten of them. I think it's pretty common for us pre-weight-loss-surgery folk to have little farewell to our favorite food meals in the last few days before surgery. I made a special trip to my parents old golf club to get these cookies. I can't find them anywhere else. But they are rough and now the roof of my mouth is hurting the way it used to hurt when I was little and would eat bowls full of Captain Crunch cereal.
My surgery has been moved up from next Tuesday the 25, to Monday the 24. Yikes. My surgeon, Dr. Liu and his wonderful assistant Gedion were funny and personable as always. it's so different from the way it was over at UCLA. The nurse, Chris, was so kind and sweet. She's really pretty. Anyone Asian. I am so attracted to all things Asian.
I asked her if she would let me go up to the surgery floor, and then to see where my room would be. I think it will help me get a handle on my runaway fear/phobia here, if I can know what the environment will look like, so I can visualize myself there. See myself having a successful surgery. Oh lovely, we've activated the emergency operations center, and we're on high terrorism alert, lovely. Surgery, war, surgery, war, life, death, life, and death again. Fun, fun, fun.
Now how am I going to go down the street and ask the Nuns to please pray for me one day earlier than I had originally asked? Umm, I know you girls are super busy with all of this scary life and death war business but I was wondering, if you're planning on squeezing in a few pleas with God for me, would you just make sure it's one day before the day when you were originally planning your little prayerathon?
Even the Oscars aren't going to have a red carpet arrival. Now what the hell is up with that? That's my favorite part of the show. What are Joan and Melissa going to do with themselves? E must be freaking out. Damnit why do they have to spoil my voyeuristic celebrity fashion viewing fun with this nasty war business. I hope you know I'm kidding. I know where my priorities lie, with this box of Frenchy cookies right here.
These are scary times, big bombs, talking fish, runaway killer viruses, and the thought that I am about to be cut open, have my stomach cut into two sections, stapled shut, my intestines detached, shortened, and then reattached again.
Phil Hendrie is playing Dixie Chicks songs with farting sounds in the background. I wish everyone would get off of it. It reminds me of how uptight everyone got when Roseanne sung the National Anthem, McCarthyism, and the 1950s. I hope the whole thing just boomerangs back for them and winds up being an all publicity is good publicity kind of thing. God! We don't want war! Why won't anyone listen? Why are people who speak out shamed into silence and shunned? It's sickening. Listen, I think Sadaam Hussein is an evil motherfucker and I hate to say it but I wouldn't shed a tear if they took him out somehow, but war? Acceptable losses? The horror!