Who needs teeth, anyway?
Have you ever gotten sick of being sick?
That's where I am. I had my head cold that morphed into flu-like symptoms, that I haven't quite been able to shake, despite a visit to the doctor, an antibiotic, and multiple over-the-counter meds. Grrrrr.
I spent the majority of the weekend in bed. Again. I hate this. I hate feeling this way. I have one stinkin' life and I don't want to spend it in bed. Although my bed is quite lovely, and during weekend days the soft light filtering through the shutters just beckons for a nap.
So I decided this morning that I'm simply done being sick. I will not be sick any more. The sickness is gone. Adios. I will be well.
The other thing I need to do is get rid of my funky dreams. I've been having some doozies, mostly stemming from those Star Trek episodes we've been watching. At one point I was undergoing a court martial (in response, I'm sure, to Spock's court martial for taking over the Enterprise without Kirk's approval).
Last night I was losing my teeth. They were loose, and I could feel they were loose, and so I finally got tired of babying them and decided to just pull them. One at a time. Slowly. During a business luncheon that my father-in-law also happened to be attending. I know, I know. What crack was I smoking before bed? So I pulled a bunch of my teeth out and hid them in a Kleenex, saving them for God only knows what purpose, and by the end of the luncheon they were all gone on the right side and in front, and very few remained on the left side. And when I took out my compact to check out the damage, I could see that all would be fine as I had new teeth already growing in (which, I concluded, had made my existing teeth loose to begin with). I would be forced to simply gum soft food until they were in.
This last one I attribute to subconscious worrying that my daughter may not, indeed, have all her teeth by the time she starts high school.
Upon hearing about this last dream, M told me to blog about it so "everyone will know what a freak I'm living with." I can so feel the love.
Not too much else to talk about. Have been unbelievably productive this morning already, in response to deciding to be well again. Feels good. I mean, it's not as good as I'm sure Saara feels, having biked 150 miles over two days for the MS150 (you go, girl!) or as good as Amy feels, having made the leap into the world of digital photography (you go, too, girl!), or as good as Stef feels, having now been mentioned on the blog yet again (because if I don't mention her when I mention my other friends, she pouts and whines and guilts me to no end), but it feels good nonetheless.
That's where I am. I had my head cold that morphed into flu-like symptoms, that I haven't quite been able to shake, despite a visit to the doctor, an antibiotic, and multiple over-the-counter meds. Grrrrr.
I spent the majority of the weekend in bed. Again. I hate this. I hate feeling this way. I have one stinkin' life and I don't want to spend it in bed. Although my bed is quite lovely, and during weekend days the soft light filtering through the shutters just beckons for a nap.
So I decided this morning that I'm simply done being sick. I will not be sick any more. The sickness is gone. Adios. I will be well.
The other thing I need to do is get rid of my funky dreams. I've been having some doozies, mostly stemming from those Star Trek episodes we've been watching. At one point I was undergoing a court martial (in response, I'm sure, to Spock's court martial for taking over the Enterprise without Kirk's approval).
Last night I was losing my teeth. They were loose, and I could feel they were loose, and so I finally got tired of babying them and decided to just pull them. One at a time. Slowly. During a business luncheon that my father-in-law also happened to be attending. I know, I know. What crack was I smoking before bed? So I pulled a bunch of my teeth out and hid them in a Kleenex, saving them for God only knows what purpose, and by the end of the luncheon they were all gone on the right side and in front, and very few remained on the left side. And when I took out my compact to check out the damage, I could see that all would be fine as I had new teeth already growing in (which, I concluded, had made my existing teeth loose to begin with). I would be forced to simply gum soft food until they were in.
This last one I attribute to subconscious worrying that my daughter may not, indeed, have all her teeth by the time she starts high school.
Upon hearing about this last dream, M told me to blog about it so "everyone will know what a freak I'm living with." I can so feel the love.
Not too much else to talk about. Have been unbelievably productive this morning already, in response to deciding to be well again. Feels good. I mean, it's not as good as I'm sure Saara feels, having biked 150 miles over two days for the MS150 (you go, girl!) or as good as Amy feels, having made the leap into the world of digital photography (you go, too, girl!), or as good as Stef feels, having now been mentioned on the blog yet again (because if I don't mention her when I mention my other friends, she pouts and whines and guilts me to no end), but it feels good nonetheless.
posted by Amy at 11:00 AM
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