I’m cranky, I’m cold, the idiotic rooster is crowing and it’s only a quarter till four, does anyone remember if I took my Effexor yesterday, I’ve been up since one, my back hurts…  Wait, I could turn my nifty chair on.  Well yeah that does help a lil bit.  Anyways I have an appointment for 3:30 this afternoon with Dr. Swartz and that other guy to discuss all my options for a revision, i.e. how bloody dangerous it is and every single solitary thing that can possibly go wrong.  Booyeah!  

Now it’s very important I refrain from kicking Dr. Felix in the nuts, and since there’s an excellent chance I won’t be sleeping anytime between now and then, it’s fair to say a lil Xanax will be needed.

But!

This is a very important meeting and I need to stay lucid, and annoy the shit out of Dr. Felix by keeping my vast vocabulary intact.

What to do?

This time I’m not starving myself for the weigh in.  Yes, I weigh lots.  We all know that, and the glaring precise numbers aren’t really a necessity at the moment.  In fact the last time I was forced onna scale the Lifeline helicopter had to be brought in, and it wasn’t for me. 

I actually had a dream where somebody emailed me and said that they were happy to announce that they wouldn't be in town the same day.

I have six bottles of vodka in the pantry; maybe I should take one for the road.

I have an overwhelming need to drive a pick axe into Amy Williams’ smug face.  S’pose that’s just the crankiness and vulnerability talking.  Still, I know someone who’ll do it just for a six pack.  Actually that’s no fun.  Death is too easy.  I say cut her off at the knees, force her to be short and gain all her weight back.

I was gonna tattle on her to Dr. Swartz, so’s he could go to the head honchos as they do pay to be on their site.  Unfortunately $3500 isn’t much clout up against two million dollars.  Still, I think I’ll tell him anyway that it’s nothing but a money grubbing corporation using obesity support as a smoke screen.  He’s a rather intuitive guy though and probably already realizes that, but at least he does think highly of Mother and I and maybe he’ll totally agree that they suck ass just to make me feel better.

I haven’t even packed yet, although it’s not as if ya have to pack much for Fresno.  Seriously, we shoulda bought a second home there over a year ago.  Real estate has already soared over there; we coulda made a killing by renting a place out.  We have a friend who bought a place over in Clovis about six months ago; 4000 sq feet, swimming pool and the house is already appraising at least more than $100,000 from what he paid for it.  He said we oughta come over and visit; maybe I should spend my recovery time at his house.  

Damnit!  If I’d been thinking I woulda got us a room at the new casino just 20 miles up the road.  However, Mother’s promised me a lil getaway down to Cambria where we can tour the wineries Sideways style.  Because (knock on wood) her old boss may have found her a job, and we may not have to do the whole court battle thing – which noone was lookin forward to.  

And after this goddamn surgery and I lose 100 pounds, I’m goin to Vegas to get plastered and lose my virginity with the first good lookin guy I see.  Then I’ll marry him and get it annulled the next morning, come back and tell everyone I’m a widower.  

Well I guess I should go bathe and put on a mildly good impression, but I ain’t shavin my legs.