I need to get off my ass and clean my house. My surgery is in 16 days, and my house looks like some unholy combination of the Barbie section at Wal*Mart and an overfilled dumpster fermented and then exploded.
I want a nice clean house to come home and suffer in. I want a nice clean bathroom and a bed that does not have a mound of clothing at the foot of it which is on the scale of some kind of architectural miscarriage of design.
However, I am too fucking tired to do anything but sleep, play Pop'NDrop, and read the Urban Legends Reference Pages message board. The hysterectomy support board I've been frequenting has begun to make me paranoid and twitchy -- you can only read so many comments from women about how their incision got infected, or how they had scarring and granulation at the site of their vaginal cuff and had to go have silver nitrate treatments dripped into their hoo-ha, which sounds like some kind of Spanish Inquisition-esque torture.
I keep trying to get my husband and my daughter to clean, but to do it they apparently have to have me standing over them with a riding crop (which I actually have, although I have not been desperate enough to actually get it out and use it yet) while they work. I've tried writing out lists of tasks on a dry-erase board and using the list as a visual aid while I screamed and cried. No dice.
So, add lots of stress about the upcoming surgery, mix in one filthy house, the prospect of my mother being here for five days right after I come home from the hospital, a girlfriend who SAYS she is coming out to visit and help me but who has not called me in days, and a hubby who works nights and therefore is not awake when the cleaning needs to get done.
Can I please have an IV drip of Valium for the next 16 days until they wheel me into the OR and knock me out?
I want a nice clean house to come home and suffer in. I want a nice clean bathroom and a bed that does not have a mound of clothing at the foot of it which is on the scale of some kind of architectural miscarriage of design.
However, I am too fucking tired to do anything but sleep, play Pop'NDrop, and read the Urban Legends Reference Pages message board. The hysterectomy support board I've been frequenting has begun to make me paranoid and twitchy -- you can only read so many comments from women about how their incision got infected, or how they had scarring and granulation at the site of their vaginal cuff and had to go have silver nitrate treatments dripped into their hoo-ha, which sounds like some kind of Spanish Inquisition-esque torture.
I keep trying to get my husband and my daughter to clean, but to do it they apparently have to have me standing over them with a riding crop (which I actually have, although I have not been desperate enough to actually get it out and use it yet) while they work. I've tried writing out lists of tasks on a dry-erase board and using the list as a visual aid while I screamed and cried. No dice.
So, add lots of stress about the upcoming surgery, mix in one filthy house, the prospect of my mother being here for five days right after I come home from the hospital, a girlfriend who SAYS she is coming out to visit and help me but who has not called me in days, and a hubby who works nights and therefore is not awake when the cleaning needs to get done.
Can I please have an IV drip of Valium for the next 16 days until they wheel me into the OR and knock me out?
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[Edited on Jan 11, 2004 10:01AM]