Today is Day 8 of surgery recovering. I'm off of the hydrocodone and switched to Tylenol for the pain, and I go to the doctor tomorrow. It's been slow-going, and it's exhausting, being unable to talk. Mentally, I'm going stir-crazy from being in this house, on this couch for eight days straight. I've had visitors, who I am eternally grateful for, but I need out of here soon! My cravings have involved anything involving gooey cheese, which I can't eat because of a) the chewing, b) it's hot, and c) it's sticky. In fact, I have a list of my cravings, which I intend to gorge and binge on the second I'm approved to do so; at the top is a cheese quesadilla from Vallarta's.
I had so many plans for what I'd be doing while in recovery, mostly like blogging or writing, but the medication has put me in such a tired and lazy state that it takes most of my energy into watching something remotely witty on tv. But today I must do homework, because there's a paper due Friday, not to mention the pile of work I have waiting for me for the three days of school I missed for surgery; thank God I'm on spring break. It's so beautiful outside, and I want to get out there and soak up the sun and get some kind of tan, but I can't handle the heat right now. Can't afford to get dehydrated.
Still waiting for my TOC at Rochester decision. Should be any day now, apparently. The university keeps messing with me by sending information packets about why I should choose Rochester as my future. I'm up to my ears! I'm getting to the point where I'm going to email or call or something and say "Hey, look, I'm already set on applying to Rochester and you're my top choice anyway providing I get funding, so stop sending me this useless paper packets about things I already know and send my summer decision letter already!" Yeah, I'm a tad frustrated. And a bit impatient.
I turn seventeen in two months. No plans yet. I want to go to Universal for the day with TJ, but I highly doubt that that's going to fly by my mom well. I'd ask for a two-day thing where she comes with us and we get two rooms, one for her and me and one for TJ, but any extra money would go into me going to Rochester, so there goes that plan. No other ideas, though. I've dreamed up my sixteenth and seventeenth birthdays since I was little: flying to New York City or Chicago or LA for the weekend, going shopping, seeing the sights. The week after my birthday, I'm heading to the Borden family reunion in California, so that's fun. I really love my family, or at least that side. They annoy me less, because I identify with them more.
Prom is next weekend. Everything has been worked out except my hair, the second-most-important part of prom. Because of this whole liquids-only diet, basically, for recovery, I've lost roughly six pounds in a week, and recovery isn't even over yet. I don't have the most self-confidence in the world, but I think I'm going to look at least halfway decent.
Still need to blog about Chels and Graham. Searching for the time. Kinda don't want to do it. It's going to take awhile!
Okay, it's medicine time again, and I need to prepare for my study date with Chels. Anyone who's reading: please for the love of God eat some cheese pizza and send me a picture, either mention me on Twitter with it or email it. I don't care. Just do it. Please?
Love,
Caitlyn
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