{I know you’re all thinking, “Seriously?  How much momentum can one girl get out of one tiny surgery?” The answer to that question is STICK AROUND; YOU AIN’T SEEN NOTHIN’ YET.}

Inasmuch as I’m undergoing major surgery tomorrow {or today [or right this minute depending on when you’re reading this]}, I thought I’d open up the polls to see if any of you have any final burning questions for me. Normally, I take reader questions and dedicate entire posts to just one answer, but tomorrow we’re going to do it a little differently.

Note: This is an idea I completely ripped off from my good blog-friend who had an even more major surgery {if such a thing is possible} not long ago.

Here’s the idea:  You may take this opportunity to ask me any juicy question you have, and Poor Kyle will ask me all of them, in rapid succession, as soon as I am out of surgery (should I make it through alive), yet still doped up on sleepy-drugs.  I’m a ticking time bomb of words on a normal day—imagine the answers I might have when I’m completely incoherent! So ask away; any query your heart may have, I will answer.  In one massive post.  Whilst high on drugs.  And possibly grouchy and bloody, too.  It could get interesting.

Wish me luck.  If you don’t hear from me before Monday, you’ll know I’ve died.  Pray for my soul if I do die; I’d like to make it somewhere near Heaven, if at all possible.

Oh, and one more thing:  If I die, I want to leave all of my fines and debts, incurred at the Mesa Public Library, to my brother-in-law, Flint.  I believe it’s upward of several hundred dollars.  This is my final will and testament.

Oh, and another thing:  Family?  Friends?  I love you.

Oh, and one more “one more thing:”  If Poor Kyle remarries, I’m not kidding: I’ll be really really mad.  Especially if she’s skinny.  I hate her.

How’s that for a deathbed sentiment?

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