"What a Maroon!"

So I'm going into surgery tomorrow, (which reminds me I better call the doctor to see if we're still on). It's not major surgery. I won't say what it's for, but let's just say that "team lifting" is more than just a novel concept.

I've had surgery before, but never "torso surgery". The last time I had it was on my nose. It hurt. I figure the farther away from your brain though, the less painful it is. Is that a medical fact? I don't know, it sounds suspiciously close to the realm of medicine that thinks "leaches make great bandaids". Ouch. Anyway, I'm trying to balance my 5 humors for tomorrow's surgery.

I'm not a big fan of hurting. I don't like the word "slicing" or the term "puncture wound". I think some cosmic force has been trying to warm me up to my impending surgical pain, because in the last few days I have hurt myself a lot.

So I was cooking chicken the other day, and I accidentally poured too much low-fat canola oil (plug for good cholesterol) in the bottom of the pan. I wanted to pour it out, but neither the sink nor the garbage was a viable option, and I didn't want to go for the old "spill oil everywhere trying to get it from the wide pan to the one inch bottle" routine. I decided to just leave it in the pan, and to turn the stove on high. That way it would heat the oil up to an evil temperature.
So after about about 3 minutes of that my chicken had defrosted in the microwave, and I decided to THROW the chicken... into the molten crucible of death from about a foot away, and it exploded grease all over my right hand. My beautiful dominant hand, the hand I had intended to make millions off of modeling with on TheShaneCompany.com, and in Swatch Catalogues across the nation. Why do you mock me fate? Well that really hurt, for a good few hours, but it also really ticked me off. Why is it, when you do something really stupid, you're mad at everyone else?
I tried to take my mind off it and earlier that day, my roommate had stolen my internet capabilities, and so I went outside in a huff,(and in barefeet mind you) to wrangle my cord back through my window, and while doing so, dropped a two by four with it's sharp corner right on my oh so tender foot. Then in hopping around like a wimpy idiot,(because that's what you do when you hurt your foot, at least in movies starring Macaulay Culkin) I bounced right onto a sharp stick, and impaled the bottom of my foot. Right then, as I was not so silently swearing, a bee flew up and landed on my ear. I swore that if he stung me, I would bold out into the street and jump in front of a garbage truck to finish me off, but the bee didn't have time, because right then I heard a whistling noise and an anvil fell from a clear sky, hit me on the head and dug me into the ground. Then the roadrunner ran by and let out a taunting "meepmeep".
I think you can decipher where the truth stops there, but it was ridiculous! I just hope that after tomorrow I don't set off airport security checkpoints, because the doctor left his Rolex in my abdomen.