Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Say goodbye to my right hand....

Ahem. So…surgery. Yeah, not a lot of fun in general. My latest will occur in…14 hours and 36 minutes. Sure, it’s just on my wrist, but I’m still just a little bit nervous. For all who would care to know, I sort of developed tendonitis in my right wrist after doing several types of repetitive motion through cooking school and employment in the food industry. At first, cortisone shots did the trick, but my body then began to be immune to it or something. El sucko. So, it was either physical therapy, which takes forever and I would still be doing the work that caused the pain, or surgery, long recovery, but definitely most permanent. So here I am, about to lose the use of my right hand, which includes writing, typing (which means this will be my last blog for a while), eating, and every other thing that I do using my right hand. Showering should be interesting. Makeup, too. And blow-drying my hair. Gall, am I gonna look like crap. Not to mention the difficulty in dressing myself. Yuck. As much as the recovery is gonna suck, the surgery itself is freaking me out too. I trust my doctor and stuff, but going under anesthesia in general is scary. I don’t the like the feeling you have when you come out of it. You’re all groggy and confused and stuff. *sigh* Well, enough about that crap. Let’s talk about something else.

So, I moved back in with my parents this past weekend. Sort of. All of my stuff is there, yeah, but I still haven’t sold my contract to my apartment down in Provo. It’s a problem. You wanna throw another dilemma into the mix? I just heard from a job I applied for about a month ago that I really wanted. I had an interview last Monday and I think (hope) that it went well. What do you think the odds are that they'll wait a month for me to be able to work? Any takers? No clue. So….what if I get the job and I’ve sold my contract? Screwed. But if I get the job and don’t sell my contract, I still have to pay rent for the month or so where I’m still recovering at my parent’s house. And I’ll have to move all my stuff back to my apartment.

Man, I didn’t mean for this blog to be such a downer. Sorry. Ah, well. Once I can type again, I write about something happy. Later, peeps.

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