Just waking up ass early to prep for surgery. But my (mismatched — or are they?) Rick and Morty socks will keep me prepared for anything that comes my way!

Saying goodbye to Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet was super hard for me this morning, too, because I might not even spend more than one night at my folks house before I go and spend some much needed recovery time AWAY from my folks at my friend Jenny’s place where there’s an extra bedroom/private bath and some company that isn’t related to me. Mr. B. I know it’s a really good opportunity for me to take, though I wish my furbabies could come, but the fix up crew forbids it and hates animals. But it is a mansion. It’s putting stress between my mum and I because she’s so pissed with them all the time, and I never meant to stay with them so long. Maybe something will change. Right now I just want to get to the hospital and on some saline; I feel so dehydrated.

Here you can see how blue my hair turned. Ugh. Still seriously dehydrated and my mum and are are horsing around about the tube heated surgery johnnies and how they make me look like I’ve gone and got a tit job. I even texted my sister to let her know it would be the only time mine would be bigger than hers.

I arrived at 8am and by 1030a I was still waiting, irritated, dehydrated to the point of passing out and tired when an anesthesiologist came to hook me up, take my glasses and put me under. I came out around 1p and went up to my room. Right now, my back is sore, I’m drinking a Frappuccino, knitting a marled cardigan for my Aunt Mauricette.

We may not have won tonight, but I still love you, Adam McQuaid!! 🖤💛

Written by Breigh-Selina

I'm a writer living outside of Providence. I write literary fiction, short stories and novels. I also read, knit, and study herbalism. I love period British miniseries, and sometimes think I was born in the wrong century. I'm a fan of the Oxford comma and I can bake a badass cupcake.