Who's for dentures?
I cannot say that a trip to the dentist for a couple of huge, expensive fillings is really the most restful way to finish off a week spent fighting a cold. Good god I feel like hell.
I had made some muffins last night, and now they're sitting in a tupperware on the counter, a hideous pile of tooth-rotting sugary death-bombs. And they're also full of walnuts, which I now remember are hard and crunchy as little nuggets of iron ore. I'm not sure if I ever want to eat again, certainly not anything containing sugar, starches which break down into sugar, or in fact anything which might at one time have been stored next to products containing sugar. It doesn't seem fair, either, given that I brush and floss with a devotion bordering on fanaticism.
Once again I think if only the insomnia and nightmares will give me a break, maybe I'll feel better in the morning. Does that line ever work, or is it just one of those comforting lies I tell myself so it won't occur to me to just drop off the side of some convenient bridge? (There aren't any convenient bridges in this town. I'd have to go back to Pittsburgh for that.) Even my previous comforts of tea and jello are no use anymore, being respectively too hot and too cold for my mangled gums. There's a particularly nasty place which I think is where they stuck the plastic wedges in, although it might have been the metal clamp instead.
Time to think about something else, maybe. Like which of my kidneys I might be able to sell on the black market, so as to be able to pay my rent in the future.
I had made some muffins last night, and now they're sitting in a tupperware on the counter, a hideous pile of tooth-rotting sugary death-bombs. And they're also full of walnuts, which I now remember are hard and crunchy as little nuggets of iron ore. I'm not sure if I ever want to eat again, certainly not anything containing sugar, starches which break down into sugar, or in fact anything which might at one time have been stored next to products containing sugar. It doesn't seem fair, either, given that I brush and floss with a devotion bordering on fanaticism.
Once again I think if only the insomnia and nightmares will give me a break, maybe I'll feel better in the morning. Does that line ever work, or is it just one of those comforting lies I tell myself so it won't occur to me to just drop off the side of some convenient bridge? (There aren't any convenient bridges in this town. I'd have to go back to Pittsburgh for that.) Even my previous comforts of tea and jello are no use anymore, being respectively too hot and too cold for my mangled gums. There's a particularly nasty place which I think is where they stuck the plastic wedges in, although it might have been the metal clamp instead.
Time to think about something else, maybe. Like which of my kidneys I might be able to sell on the black market, so as to be able to pay my rent in the future.