|
|
|
Reading Online:
|
Little Miss Whines-A-Lot 2004-04-21, 9:15 p.m. Good lord, has it ever been a week around here. Last week, I had a rather uncomfortable root canal and temporary crown put on one of my upper back teeth. I have a very small jaw and big teeth, so every time the dentist said “open wider”, I just wanted to bite her hand through her nasty latex gloves. After nearly two hours of torture, her assistant finally said “ohhh…your jaw is really small. Wow.” No kidding, Dental Assistantrix. Anyway, so this was done last week, and yesterday, the temporary crown fell out of my mouth when I was at work. I promptly scheduled an appointment for today to get the plastic tooth reattached, and this round lasted for approximately six hours. So, I have a creepy half-tooth on my desk right now and I know if I go back there, they will fuss at me, so I’m just going to call in the morning and say that I can suck it up and deal for the next two weeks until the permanent crown comes in, and also, is there any guarantee that the permanent crown will actually stick to my tooth? Grumble, grumble. Then, I’ve been feeling like absolute crap for the past four or five days. I visited my physician today (and consulted the Mathletes first, of course) regarding the pains I was having, and she is suspicious that I have some ovarian cysts and some pretty painful gas. I am all bloated and my stomach hurts and is all crampy and I will spare you the details of the rest, but in essence, I’m pretty uncomfortable. So I’m going to visit my ob-gyn tomorrow to see what she thinks, and if it’s not Girl Trouble, then I’m going to go back to my regular doctor for gall bladder tests and whatever other kinds of tests can rule out Gut Pain. I know it’s not anything serious like gastroenteritis because I just don’t have those kinds of pains, and I sure hope it’s not my appendix or my kidneys or anything that would require surgery or a transplant to repair. I’m hopeful that I just need to be a Pepto-Bismol Girl and have some vile flatulence and then feel better right away. And, I stepped on the scale today and there has been no change in my weight at all in the past two weeks. This is disappointing…I’ve been to the gym, I’m drinking less Diet Coke and more water and I completely cut out alcohol (…for now) and I’ve been writing down every bit of food I eat so that I won’t compulsively snack at my desk. But, I’m not going to get down on myself, because I look around my kitchen and see healthier choices and no cookies. And when I got dressed this morning, I noticed that there was a little less back fat and that my pants weren’t snug on my hips. That was a pretty good feeling. I’m also extremely pouty and whiny and bitchy because I’m trying so hard to get over my relationship with T, and I know that in ten days, I’ll be picking him up at his parents’ house and we will most likely spend the 4 hours back to Kansas City engaged in a vicious discussion, where I declare to be over him and I’ll learn that thoughts of me did not cross his mind once over the past 3 ½ weeks, and that I don’t mean a fucking thing to him. So, I’m going out with friends I haven’t seen a while, and entertaining fantastic guests, like Squish’s fiancé The Sociologist last weekend, and this weekend, I’ll get to see BGK for a few hours, which is very exciting. I also have been catching up with a college acquaintance who I’ve been in touch with off and on for the past few months, and he expressed interest in forming an Arrangement or So, bitch, moan, whine, complain….pretty much sums up my week. But! Allison is coming to Kansas City in a few days and we are going to eat barbecue and drink a lot and I will hopefully get a chance to show her around this up-to-date city. T is turning 25 in a few weeks, and we have a mostly-nonrefundable short vacation planned that we’re still planning to take together. Yes, I KNOW that it’s a bad idea and blah blah blah Jedi-cakes, but it’s something we’ve had planned for months and incorporates things we both enjoy doing but sweet fuck-all, that’s the plan. We’re staying at a B&B, so even if things go horribly wrong, I can boot T to the couch and we can spend the weekend glaring at each other from opposite sides of the very lovely and extremely luxurious suite. Luckily, I know enough about T and me to know that even when we try to completely hate each other, it doesn’t work and we still have the best time. But I’m done bitching and whining for now, because it’s 9 p.m. and time for me to watch some Nick at Nite before I crash. And surely, one of the Huxtables has to be having a more terrible month than I am.
|