Dear Diary,
I guess I have nothing to complain about right now. I don't know what I weigh, and though I've spent the last few nights in the hospital I'm doing ok. I know there are 'Better Dayz' ahead, though I'm sure I'll have something to complain about soon enough. I'm going home today. Huh? No that's not why I'm gonna complain a**hole, but that is gonna make me a sitting target for Myles to take off on me. That kid wanted to rip out my IV yesterday. His determination is amazing. His strength too. I do fear that he'll pull at my stitches while I sleep. Huh? When I see him I will do no such thing. 'Bomb First.' He's a baby you a**. But no complaints about my family loving on me. I'll likely complain because I have a feeling I didn't lose anything and I won't be able to hit my regular workout for a while, while at the same time having nothing to do but to eat and sleep. I don't like being lazy anymore, but I'm kinda being forced into it for the moment. I should be able to ride my bike, so if the pills I'll be taking don't zap my strength I may be putting up some amazing mileage totals over the next couple of weeks. Actually if they give me the wrong amount of hormones I might drop weight in spite of the forced laziness. I'd rather get it honestly, but at this point I'll take what I can get. I'll also be working on keeping my head up. And before I you insert your Tupac joke you should know that I thought of them all already. How? 'I get around.'
PS. I found a scale here, and just my luck, the batteries were dead. Huh? I don't know if Biggie did it! F***! You're an a**.
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