lately i've been unorganized and unsettled.
the piles of papers that live on our kitchen island and on my desk, aren't of tower like proportions any longer and the house, to the untrained eye, appears to look clean and comfortably lived in.
but inside. inside of me. now that's a different story.
it's because of tomorrow.
tomorrow i have surgery.
i could share the details. and someday i'm sure i will. but for now i'll just keep it at that.
i've known for a week now that tomorrow will be "the day" and as hard as i've tried to stop thinking about it, it's always first in line, waving it's sticky little hand at me, yelling "pick me pick me" when i turn my thoughts on.
i'm blessed to have a husband who will be my nurse as i recover.
his bedside manner is impeccable, but if my pain pills make me vomit, i know he'll go running,
as that's about the only thing i've ever seen him run away from.
well, there is the occasional spider that doesn't get squished on the first attempt and falls near him that can really make him move quickly...but still, vomit or the sound of someone vomiting can literally make the man run.
other then that, i know he'll be at my side constantly, doing everything humanly possible to take care of me, since that's just the kind of guy he is.
so it will probably be quiet around here for a few days or maybe even a week. i hope to feel well enough in a few days to at least stalk all of you, but comments probably won't get written and my own blog posts will be slim to none.
unless of course, my pain pills surrender me helpless in la la land and the hubby wickedly decides to take control of my blog posts and writes something in my place, to get back at me for letting everyone know about his vomit phobia. it could happen.
i just hope he doesn't tell you why, no matter how hot i am,
that i have to have a bed sheet over me when i sleep.
oh heck. i'll tell you. it's because of the ghosts.