2. Besides, as unconcerned as I claim to be anymore, the Sore But Pretty tooth on Bad Ear's side undid me all yesterday and today I CALLED IN TO WORK and butchered a rabbit and packed up the kidneys by UNOS guidelines and hied myself to MFA Dentist.
3. We still had our first lover's spat, oif you eant to call it that. I wanted to save the tooth. He did too. TOMORROW. I was all "I can't eat or drink anything hard or soft pr hot or cold or sweet or acidic or BREATHE THROUGH MY MOUTH." He was all "now now, if you could have ANY PRESCRIPTION YOU WANTED what it would be?" and I was all "no you do not understand me dude, I am living on room-temperature Grey Goose and donor Oxycontin and I haven't slept in three days and I needed to lose two pants sizes but NOT LIKE THIS." Finally he turned red and said honestly he just couldn't hurt my face any more this week no matter how cool I played it and called me an oral surgeon.
* Who was one of the loveliest and most compassionate men I have ever had the provilege of working with and did excellent work, from finding my Only Peripheral Access and cannulating it in one try to taking payment arrangements for saving my sanity and ability to function.
* And The good innernets rallied and came up with enough to back my rubber check for general anesthetic. And oh, it was so much less traumatic. Thank you.
* I think sleep for me is All Done but I'm going to try again anyway.
Sent from The Precious