At the moment I'm a weeping mess, because I can't even heat me a bowl of soup without someone else having to do it for me, but I'll live. I just really-really hate having to walk with crutches. They hurt and when I'm walking with them, my hands are full so I can't basically do,anything. Hence the weepiness at the moment. It just really sucks, being home alone all day, bored out of your mind and I'm hungry, because all I can eat right now are sweets, because they're the only things that don't require a fucking plate or a bowl, that I can't really lift at the moment.
But whatever, I'll be up and walking in no time (I'd better, because I've got to go on a job interview next week. As a fucking waitress. I can't walk on crutches then)
I guess I'm just sad, that's all. I'm sad, because going to that surgery was such a big deal for me. I'm terrified of needles. And yet I still went through with this. Alone. And I didn't even scream or beg for them to stop or anything (so I cried a little... It's a fucking cannula! a really big needle? yeah.) But... no-one really cares, do they? Oh, whatever. I guess I was just hoping that some friends of mine (who live right near the hospital) would come and visit or something.
But getting an msn message "Have a nice recovery" followed by "I was even going to call, but I've exceeded my call limit" Seriously? Seriously? Even call? And that's coming from someone, who is supposed to be one of my best friends? Well fuck him.
And the thing I hate most is that I can't even take a shower -.- ugh. fucking stitches and broken joints and crutches. -.- I'm fucking ORANGE, I want to wash it off, darn it! I feel like a bloody oompa-loompa here.