Non-productivity and the proletariat

Despite my numerous days free of the burden of toil and the respite from practically anything I deemed unnecessarily taxing to my post-operative self, I haven't really done a damn thing for the last 10 days! I slept alot which was nice, I guess. But I couldn't lay on my side or my stomach for several days and even now I'm still a bit tender when I do. The stack of books on my bedside table just soaked up the moisture that collected on the outside of my glass every time I had it refilled and, for one reason or another, didn't use the coaster. Note that I "had it refilled" (the italics are mine, obviously) because rising from even a slightly reclined position was no easy or pleasant task. It still isn't, honestly.

I did venture into the outside world though for various errands and whatnot but I was usually tagging along just to get out of the house. If you happened to see any guys walking around with an unusual and slow deliberateness wearing flip-flops, loosely fitting athletic shorts or pajama pants and an equally loose shirt while simulatenously retaining his Adonic charisma, that may have been me. Actually, I still can't wear regular pants or shorts comfortably due to the tenderness and the stitches that remain covered with the original tape. Nevertheless, I have managed to begin resuming those activities that don't necessarily require extensive range-of-motion on my part but still provide enjoyment such as crocheting a nice hat, reading a new book, cooking a savory meal...or doin' the nasty. You were thinking it, don't try to say that you weren't.