IGNORING YOU, I am merely preoccupied. For the past several days, I’ve had ever-increasing oral pain. Finally, Wednesday, I decided I’d put it off too long already, and I could afford to take Thursday off if I had to, and went to see the dentist.
And had an emergency root canal.
Well, it wasn’t really an emergency — as in not-life-threatening — but the oral surgery also wasn’t exactly elective.
I haven’t exactly been enjoying life these last couple of days. And now, I’m recovering somewhat, but am tethered to kickass antibiotics and a painkiller — the one Rush got busted for — whose warning label says, “To hell with heavy machinery, don’t operate a push cart under the influence of this stuff.” Oh, it’s also the one Dr. House pops like Tic-Tacs. Not sure how he manages it. Acquired tolerance, perhaps.
Tried to nap. I’d sleep for fifteen minutes and wake up wondering what time it was. Look at clock and go, “OMG! Is that all?” I remember being bored with bed rest as a kid, until I could fall asleep. But I couldn’t concentrate on anything long enough to be productive. The very definition of apathy and lassitude.
Needles to say, my only reaction to the news of the day is like I’m a Marshall lead head cranked to 11 — “Why is it that everything that comes out of the Left, sooner or later, is revealed to be a fraud, a lie, trickery, deceit? And why is it that leftist myrmidons never seem to catch on?”
Hardly nuanced. Or even sensible — for all its probable accuracy.
And alluvasudden, the trip to Indy Sunday is up in the air. After I made Toni rearrange her away gigs so we could both go. Ain’t I a stinker?
It all depends on how I do putting in my work day at the Patch Factory today.
Swennyways, that’s what I’ve been up to.
For those who care.