iresprite's visit to Ireland (and since I'm in hospital for a chunk of that time, I may well be getting those days back again) and I'm off recovering for several weeks after that date. So friday is my last day of work this year. So when I meet iresprite in the airport, chances are I'm going to be in one of the best moods of my entire life. Note to self: get that welcome sign made.
I don't mind telling you though, I'm beginning to freak out a *little* bit. I'm avoiding reading the statistics regarding the number of people in my age bracket who smoke and the odds that they die or go into a coma as a result of the general anaesthetic and I also know full well that I'm going to be in a lot of pain for several days after the operation - sort of inevitable given that they're going to be going through an area that tends to move a lot whenever you use your face. It also occurs to me that I have to go do ALL my shopping before I go into the hospital because I'm going to be in no condition or mood to do it after I come out. Thats christmas presents, groceries for a week and a bit and medical supplies like cotton wool, disinfectant, gauze and whatnot.
The upside to all this is that boredom tends to stimulate one's creative side, though inevitably this manifests itself less as something productive and more like the kind of bad science that leads to noodle related intestinal distress. If I'm to be honest,
cartographer is probably going to suffer the brunt of this because she's most likely going to be the one to discover that I thought it would be funny to fill every cupboard in the kitchen with packing foam, or to hollow out all her food and replace the middle with jam. I doubt I'll ever be bored enough to learn how to use Mac OS though, so her computer at least is safe.While I think of it, if anyone has any decent dictation software I could get a copy of, I'd be eternally grateful, I'm not going to have the ability to focus enough on a screen to type or use the PC for any length of time for a while and I wouldn't mind getting some writing of some description done as a means of staving off jam food madness.
Edit: Its worth mentioning that a month of free time practically *guarantees* that at some point I'm going to start wondering what I'd look like without my beard and moustache.
