Today is Friday, May 28th. I turn 22 today. Two weeks ago I was in a grease fire accident and ended up at a burn clinic in Milwaukee. Last week Friday I was able to come home from the burn clinic and sleep in my own bed and shower in my own bathroom. Most of the small burns have faded into tiny red marks, my face no longer has scabs, and the burns on my stomach, chest and right shoulder are just now done scabbing. My left arm is doing better, the skin is growing and the third-degree-burns are steps away from healing up like all the others.
Next week Friday I will be at my rehearsal dinner, maybe going down to Villa De Carlos at 10pm to see the comedy show after. Then I’ll go to sleep, wake up, and have to prepare myself for my wedding.
I was planning on a get together tonight for the wedding party and other friends, a nice cook out to celebrate the wedding and our new house, actually make use of our backyard. But now I’m sitting here in bandages, hardly able to use my arm, and I cannot even sit in the sun for more than a few seconds. It’s odd how a serious injury can affect you more than physically. Because now I want to do is act like a hormonal teenage girl and sit in a corner sulking eating a tub of ice cream because today’s going to suck.
My bachelor party is tomorrow. I just wanted to go through that rite of passage, having a few beers with the guys, the last “hoorah’ as a single man, I don’t know why, it doesn’t matter much. But it just sucks knowing that got taken away. I know I can still have fun, and my friends will still be there, but it still just doesn’t feel the same.
It could be worse, maybe it seems so bad because there has been so much goddamn drama in the past six months between friends and family that this little setback just seems so defeating. Maybe I just needed to bitch about it to a computer screen knowing someone will read it, making me feel less pathetic spewing to a friend in front of me, but at the same time more pathetic because I couldn’t.
Happy birthday, me.
