Sliced, sawed and stiched.

And sauced… well sedated I guess. And also screwed.. I guess I should probably mention what I am referring to…

Tomorrow morning (7a.m. in fact) I will be having foot surgery. The bunion removal kind. I’ll be going under sedation and local anesthesia (yikes) and I’ll  be home by ten, supposedly. It’s a super routine procedure and I have a kick ass doc! I’m gonna be fine and chillin just in time to watch The Bachelorette at 7 con mis chicas! With all that being said… I’M TERRIFIED.

Hi. No i would not like some stranger cutting into my foot which is something I UM KINDA USE A LOT. Seriously. Couldn’t I have a less disgusting sounding ailment (because bunion sounds barf-worthy) that isn’t so incapacitating. Awesome. Every step I take this summer is going to hurt. And I’ve tried every year NOT to be a summer couch potato and this timeI’m forced to be. Also new: NOT HAVING A JOB! The last three summers I’ve worked 8-hour days, 5 days a week as a summer camp counselor. The last TWO summers I’ve done that job PLUS hostessing at night at Pappadeaux. NOW I have no job for the first time since I was 16. Pray to the lord I don’t go broke because I’m def still shopping.

In other news, I’m secretly super excited about having time off. Sure I’ll miss the money but two months of no Pappadeaux platters and skrimp brochette and no “thank you for calling the original pappadeaux on Westheimer this is Natalie, how may I assist you?” is literally heaven after two straight years of it. I ain’t assistin no onneee.

I know I must sound whiny! I hear the voice of reason: “It’s not deadly, stop complaining! Cancer affects millions daily, you ungrateful beettccchhh!” And yes. That’s fair. But my feet hurt! And I’m my parents are paying a lot to have it fixed so I’m claiming my semi-well deserved whining rights.

I am so tired of explaining bunions. I avoid mentioning it at all costs. My explanations started off like this: “It’s a heriditary bone growth problem that pushes out my inner meta-tarsal. Mine progressed worse because I danced and played lots of sports.” But slowly it turned into: “My feet are messed up. Google it.” #sobitter

I guess writing this has really made me realize how ready I am to be done with my freaky feet. Homies they hurt! And I’m so tired of wearing  being told to wear proper shoes (but actually just wearing whatever I want because I’m a girl so yes, I’m gonna wear heels.) OK, I know, I should. And I did.. most of the time! True story: when I was younger I would always have to wear these custom-made, bunion preventative shoe inserts. But when I would put them in and would walk in them… they squeaked. Still do actually. So little eighth grade Natalie was walking around with squeaky shoes. Just some of my childhood trauma.

I’ll keep ya updated!

The left one is what is getting sliced and diced tomorrow! Much needed, am I right? If it weren’t for the blue polish and lack of wrinkles these would be the feet of someone much older who has walked many more miles.

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