rough...mergah... draft

i need to update.

but really i just want to sleep.

and am too high to care.

about anything like updates.

clearly, i'm alive. surgeries are going well. i may even go home from this hell-hole-of-a-boredom-pit-with-a-tube-in-my-weiner tomorrow.

[Insert: as I was writing this drug-laced ramble of apathetic indifference with my iv still beeping incessantly because i refuse not to bend my arm, one of the CNA's came in and totally freaked out that I was STILL HERE. She was like omg I saw you last saturday night and they were doing surgery and I can't believe you are still here! I KNOW. RIGHT? GOOD HELL.]

If there weren't an endlessly-refreshing-10-minute supply of drugs this relationship would have ended...weeks ago. Even so I'm not completely without qualms that it's continued this long. Everything has limits. Everything.

I've even exhausted my supply of books. That's like 2000+ pages of reading on top of all the drugs, surgery, eating, peeing anytime it suits via bladder tube, and sleeping.

Zoids.

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