I was not meant to be trapped in my own house. I’m on day three since the surgery, and I. Am. Sick. Of. My. House. I cannot make that any clearer. I’m grumpy, I’m cranky, and I’m tired of this chair and the stupid view out my window and… AAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!!!
I’m at the point of screaming. I told Laurel I was going to go into work just because I couldn’t handle being trapped in the house anymore. She told me not to because I would probably hurt someone. My first thought… “Insanity plea?” 🙂
After dinner last night, I had a fit of uncontrollable must-do-something-itis. I took a walk around my backyard. It was glorious. I then came in and made the kids clean and clean and clean. I even tried to do this dishes, though how successful that was is completely open for debate. Exhausted, I finally collapsed (gently of course) back into that same stupid chair to catch my breath.
But I did something.
It’s hard to say exactly how far along I am in the recovery, but I can promise you this: I’m going to work on Monday. I couldn’t handle not going to work at this point.