Relations,
I am compelled to report that I had made an error in the date of my surgery. It was not for this morning - it is for 1015 tomorrow morning. Not 1015 this morning. I realized the error shortly after tip-tapping a few words last night. How Goofy...
...I have the calender marked for 23 April. Um, I have 'only' had this date imprinted onto and into my brains for weeks. No, really. Bleeding weeks...
...made a confirmation call last week and wrote a note of confirmation. I jotted down this information on the back of the envelope my telephone bill came in. You know, one of those business sized envelopes taped here on the desk, but inches shy of two feet from my face, eye orbs and Glasscock. My mind set was so wrapped about the calender I failed to change the date and failed to notice the note. Which now that I glanced, have noticed is perhaps two inches from the top of this screen.
Rearranged transport with my baby sister and my bro-in-law, aka my B.I.L. - I wanted family to be with me on this adventure. There's just something about that forking "C" word + surgery = I will need company with this type of thing. I am presently reprogramming my thoughts and processes about this. I had worked my ways up so much last night I was having difficulty going off to sleep...
...it was after I posted last night's blog I observed my-note-to-self there in front of my face, eye orbs and Glasscock...
...mea culpa...
p.s. The huge positive is that I did not make this error in reverse. Oui? Oui! Please do emit energy my way.
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