It's Really All I Can Think About

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I'm tired, because I have to sleep with my head elevated and not on my sutured side, which is my preferred side.  Fitful describes it best.

I'm itchy because that's what healing feels like.  Knowing that doesn't help much.

My bandage is smaller and the swollen area around my eyes has mutated from fire engine red to a soft rosy glow.  

My lips are still doing their Donald Duck imitation.  TBG has me doing mouth exercises to counter the effect.  It makes us laugh and sometimes seems to make difference.

With big, black, dark sunglasses I ventured out to the store and lunch with TBG.  The restaurant was dark, I wore my glasses in the store, and as far as I could tell no one was totally disgusted by my appearance.

I have two places to go for solace. One, is Ogden Nash:

        My face, I don't mind it 
        Because I'm behind it.
        It's the people out front that I jar.

The second is from Little Cuter:

        Fight Club. No one talks about Fight Club.

I may venture out on my own tomorrow.  We'll see what comes in handy.



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I KNOW THE FONT IS TOO SMALL......

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