Can I put deodorant on my foot? Will it work the same?

Ok, so this surgery bidniz was supposed to go down like this:
Phase One: Sedate me heavily, poke me, sedate me more, cut my foot open, do some gross stuff, sew me up or something else gross, boot cast me.
Phase Two: Boot cast for four weeks.

Note that neither phase one nor phase two involve crutches. Everything went according to plan until the aforementioned splint. And now everything has gone askew. No, no, reader. The surgery went fine. That's not the point. The point is that I am entering week three of crutches, during which I have unintentionally flashed several people on several occasions trying to extract myself from a vehicle and discovered that I cannot be in houses with more than one level and am more or less a useless human being. Run-on sentence, you say? Suck it.

Boot cast will be coming to school with me, apparently. Because transfer student orientation isn't already spelled "w-e-i-r-d-o". Oh. And apparently the girl I'm supposed to live with has a case of the sluts. Woop! Yet another reason that I don't believe in living with strangers in small, confined spaces.

A silver lining: if ever you were looking for a reason to steal a wheelchair from a church, a friend on crutches is a good excuse. Your friend will get the sad sigh from strangers around the lake that says, "Ohhh...but she's so young..." and you will get the knowing nod of, "She's such a great friend". And your day will be a little bit better.