I’ve spent the past two days hopped up on Percocet, sleeping, and barely being able to swallow Jell-o. Apple sauce and chocolate milkshakes have been my main sustenance. I am craving a hot dog…oddly…but I can’t even open my mouth wide enough. My dentist called to check on me and assured me this is normal. My swelling is gone at least. No more fat Elvis!
As long as I’m feeling marginally better for the Bob Dylan concert on Saturday I’ll be happy.
I’m going back to work at The Gazette tomorrow even though I’m still in pain. I need to do something. I’m going crazy. I thought two days off would be fun, but it turns out I miss my awesome job and all the people there. As excited as I am for next semester I’m going to be sad to leave The Gazette. I’m having so much fun and learning so much.
I emailed one of my editors today about the story I’m working on and when I’ll be back tomorrow and he sent me back an email saying they missed me. That made me feel really good even if my mouth feels less than stellar.
My friends and blog readers have also been wonderful via text, twitter, facebook and phone calls. It made me not feel so lonely while I’ve been wasting away in my house for the past couple of days.
Now that I’m out of my pain killer stupor, a special thank you goes out to my sister, who not only drove me to my appointment but chauffeured my drugged up butt to the pharmacy to get my meds and also got me numerous ice packs, milkshakes and gauze. And to my mother for checking on me, making me Jell-o and making sure I didn’t get too melodramatic.
The past few days have made me realize that even if some people and some situations frustrate me, I still have a solid group of people that I love being around, and they know who they are.
ANYWAY, back to bed for me. I get to go back to writing for a living in the morning, and there’s really no place I’d rather be…except maybe NYC with Meg!