23 June 2005
I am half a chipmunk.
I have two fewer teeth than I did last time I wrote a Novel Gazing, just as I was scheduled to have. So the left half of my face is somewhat swollen, and the right is not. The extraction itself could have been much worse, but so far the recovery is kind of kicking my butt. I'm taking Tylenol-3, and apparently the 3 means "with codeine," and we all know how the members of my family are on codeine. It's not very much codeine, though, so I'm not up for driving but can follow the plot and/or argument of a book. It throbs unpleasantly, but I'd better have that and at least some of my wits.
As many of you already know, I'm doing 15 minutes on/15 minutes off with ice bags, so I have limited typing capabilities.
Sometimes I catch glimpses of myself in the mirror -- sometimes even full-on looks -- and don't quite recognize myself, and I have weird moments thinking, "Is that what I look like?" But apparently the line of my jaw is something I always know is mine, because I am awfully sure when I glance in the mirror that I look like something different than that. Oh, strange are the ways of brains.
People in books are almost always eating something non-liquid, and half the liquids they drink are hot. It's enough to make me want to read a Tim Powers novel, where at least I won't want what they're drinking.
I watched "Galaxy Quest" this afternoon in an attempt to be less of a grouchy bear. It worked, too. I'm not sure what else I'll try along those lines, but being less of a grouchy bear generally seems to be a good thing, especially as it's been largely internal grumping so far.
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