Wake Me Up When Its Over

In the words of Ron Burgundy: "I am completely miserable, San Diego"

Eyes rolling into the back of my head
Lashes fluttering, eyelids too heavy to hold.
In and out of dreams for 18 out of the 24 hours in a day
Nothing but pain and percocet and blood consuming my thoughts.
A sore throat from where tubes used to be.
I wonder where my cheekbones have gone. And my appetite. And my ability to stand up for at least 5 minutes on my own

This is a sad way to spend time, for such a multitasker like myself.
God bless my mother for being at my side when I need her, and running to my aid when I faint in the shower. She cuts my pills in half and puts on my favorite shows and movies, even though I don't last more than 10 minutes into them.

Day 19
Dear Percocet,

I hate your stinking guts; you make me vomit. You're scuuuum between my toes. Love, Alfalfa.

I mean,

Love Marley