Getting Wiser Everyday.
The problem of what to do with my wisdom teeth (extract them, duh) has finally become too unbearable to ignore. Grocery shopping revolves around the question: Is this food a mush? while eating, if actually accomplished, is a veritable feat worth celebrating. I think I've really done a number on my jaw by putting off this surgery for so long, that at this point all I'm looking forward to are the sweet drugs I'll get shot into my blood stream. And the T3s I will try to deal afterwards.
Tuesday morning consisted of hospital basement waiting rooms, staring at crooked molars on X-rays, and a lot of me shaking. At one point I tried to knit in order to calm myself down, but again, my hands were shaking too much.
The five minutes of rather slopping knitting I did manage to fit in before giving up were all worth it though --I garnered about three approving, silent nods from the 80+ crowd.
Word sista, they thought in unison, you're part of the club.