Post-Surgery
Haven't written in a billion years, it seems. Therapist says I'm making the mistake most creative people make-stopping writing when I'm actually living, too busy enjoying the novelty of EXPERIENCING something to take the time to be reflective. But now I'm on bedrest for a week and I'm not supposed to move, which means I'm stuck on the futon at Auntie's, absorbing entirely too much of LOST.
The surgery went fine and they removed a MASS from my uterus. No word yet on what the mass was. I maintain it was an alien spawn, or more likely, the tangible manifestation of my anger, curled up in a neat little ball in my dark places.
In other news:
All is well with the new living arrangement.
All is well with Evan. And I have learned a relationship isn't just something you GET like a new pair of shoes. It takes a lot of work. It's a garden that needs to be well-loved and maintained. (No, I don't care how cheesy that sounds.)
Well my arm is hurting now, something to do with the CO2 they put in my system (icky) to swell me so I'd be easily accessible. My excercise is typing this, then transfering it to three different blogs. :)
The surgery went fine and they removed a MASS from my uterus. No word yet on what the mass was. I maintain it was an alien spawn, or more likely, the tangible manifestation of my anger, curled up in a neat little ball in my dark places.
In other news:
All is well with the new living arrangement.
All is well with Evan. And I have learned a relationship isn't just something you GET like a new pair of shoes. It takes a lot of work. It's a garden that needs to be well-loved and maintained. (No, I don't care how cheesy that sounds.)
Well my arm is hurting now, something to do with the CO2 they put in my system (icky) to swell me so I'd be easily accessible. My excercise is typing this, then transfering it to three different blogs. :)