Recovering

I have spent far too long today looking up various artists and compiling a list of potential people to write about. This was a favorite pastime of mine before- looking up erotic art- but now I have added incentive to fuel my interest. Win win!

In other news I've just been hanging out mostly. Every day I can tell that my body is a little bit more healed. I'm a little bit more comfortable. And yet, I'm not. My lower abdomen is pretty fucking sore and achy. I tried to go without the painkillers but I'm back on them. There's no reason to be uncomfortable, even if it's a low-grade mild sort of thing.

Tomorrow I'm going to the funeral of the person who passed away in my office. I think some people are meeting here at my house and we're taking a taxi to the service. It's going to be difficult. And it's a little bit strange that I'm going to see a bunch of people for the first time under these circumstances. But I want to go and I think it's important to go, so that's really what matters.

It's strange how time is passing. I don't really have a good grasp on the fact that I've been off work over two weeks now. That my life was completely thrown up into the air. Because when I'm not moving, I can forget for a moment that I'm recovering, I forget that anything is different. But of course everything is different.

I also should add that I've had some odd mood swings periodically. I'm not sure if that's just normal, or if it has something to do with my one remaining ovary adjusting to do the work of two. Or maybe it's just part of the mental recovery from what I went through. All I know is that every now and then I've been struck by some serious bouts of maudlin that pass as quickly as they came.