Pssst.. come closer, I have a secret to tell you..I am feeling so brave and so vulnerable today. I am in so much pain and discomfort. And there is more where that came from. I want you to feel sorry for me, and then again I don’t. I want you to offer to help and then again I don’t because you can’t. I don’t know what to feel anymore! I am fine, really or I think I will be. I need someone to buy me some ice-cream, some flowers and to tell me that I am really pretty. *pouts*
Today’s appointment was ..is gruelling the right word? There’s so much rework with this fucking tooth, it’s insane! I chose not to get anaesthetised, now that makes me sound like I’m clinically insane but I had to go back to work after the session and I couldn’t afford to be drowsy, drugged or worse, swollen. Since there was no cutting involved, I figured it would be okay but oh Lord did it hurt like a bitch! Who needs a knife when you have a tiny screw driver?
It’s like this- Casa and I spent an hour last night drilling screws into her brand new bed. We pushed and tweaked and screwed and unscrewed till we got it right. The doctor pretty much did the same thing on my jaw. He took an hour to screw the bit in, then I took an xray, then he unscrewed in, tweaked it and screwed it back on.
Remember how when you pulled out a milk tooth, you’d experience a shooting pain in your jaw, only for a second? I used to like that pain. This was the same pain except it lasted an hour. Doc had to move the screw-driver degree by degree- I didn’t know this until he said “I have one and a half turns to go and I am only moving one marking at a time”. I think my soul left the chair at that point, flew over my head and grimaced empathetically. After the first round, he told me that it had been a good idea to not take the anaesthesia (I agree) and also that I had been very good. Then he gave a very reassuring half-hug.
The x-ray doesn’t look that great though so I gotta go back tomorrow (at 8 am!) for some… are you ready for this.. bone filing. There will be anaesthesia and there will be blood. And swelling. Groan. And there will be more screwing. And I have to go right back to work afterwards. It hurts to even type that. It hurts to even bother with a joke about “more screwing”. I haven’t taken a goddamned painkiller for fear that I will pass out in office from the exhaustion.
In other news, Hastings, the new manager guy who is ridiculously good-looking is generally quite nice to me. (He really is – the girls went into fits of giggles on his first day, plus he winks and twists one eyebrow randomly. He’s married in case you’re wondering). Anyway I was supposed to spend some time today training him (don’t ask) and it didn’t work out. So he says to me that we would work together tomorrow. I inform him that I will be in late and guess what he says “You mean latah than ta-daay?” (He’s Aussie) My face just fell. Then he says “Nawww just kidding!”
Yeah kidding.. I wanted to punch him in his ridiculously good-looking face. Why do they do that?
Why do cute guys try to be funny? I wish I could issue a memo to all cute un-funny guys “Attention you beautiful nutjobs, you’re not as funny as you think and you don’t have to be!”
Did anyone notice how I went from being depressed and deeply pained to annoyed and angry? Anyone? I look forward to tomorrow like I’d look forward to getting nails hammered into my skull. Oh no wait..