Buy Me A Ticket On The Last Train Home Tonight

And <*snap*> just like that

At some slightly nebulous time around 3:00 this afternoon

I will pass the six week, post surgery time line.

Will there be a sparkling, glowing light around me while the tinkling of faerie bells chimes up the scale?

How will we know when that magical moment has passed?

It's like crossing the International Date Line... one minute it's today, and the next minute... it's today. Or yesterday, depending on which way you're going...

How SHALL I commemorate this auspicious occasion?

Shall I drape streamers across the living room ceiling and invite my friends and neighbours to join me in joyous festivities? Shall I sing and dance my way across the yard and frolic among the dandelions and deer poop? Shall I take a solemn moment of silence to reflect on my life and the last six weeks of recuperation?

Or will I carry the laundry basket to the closet, iron the shirts that have been hanging on the doorknob for 5 weeks, and finish off with a rousing round of vacuuming?

Ah, yes.

Back to reality.