It's been one of those days. I woke up to find Wally's bright yellow urine on my beloved Yves Delorme pillow sham and fitted sheet. I'd just washed them the day before.

On my way to acupuncture this asshole cut me off on the road and we had a finger-fuck-you-off.

All of which caused me to be late to acupuncture.

Then the mouth started to bother me while I was at Dana's. Then I acknowledged the fact that my eyelashes have started to fall out. I have thick lashes thankfully, but the bottom ones are almost completely gone and the tops are definitely thinner. The jet fuel is definitely building up in my system and I'm anticipating a rough three weeks coming up.

Tomorrow is my last visit with the plastic surgeon before the surgery. My voodoo doll of him is filled with pins. But tomorrow is when I will "choose" my new breasts so to speak. How the fuck do I know what breasts to choose? I'll just leave it up to him and his knife mastery. I have to have the liposuctioning of the "flanks"—the sides of my rib cage—during this surgery, so I'm going to ask him if he'll throw in some Restylane and Botox. I'm kidding mom don't freak out.