So last week I was flossing (woo! how exciting is my life!?) and a filling fell out. It didn’t hurt, but I did have a big creepy hole in my tooth, so I called the dentist. Since it didn’t hurt it wasn’t an emergency, so I made an appointment for a week thence, which turned out to be a mistake because, y’all. A week with that hole in my face. I pick scabs, I scratch bug-bites, so you know I couldn’t leave the dratted thing alone. And I couldn’t chew on that side, and it was all a big nuisance until yesterday, when I trudged down to the dentist and voluntarily allowed someone to mess with my teeth, which is so hideously against God and nature I can barely stand it (phobic? moi? youbetcha. The only thing that freaks me out more is anything getting near my eyes), but whatever.
Turns out the damage was um, somewhat extensive, which is all I’ll say about that because if I think about the details I will skeeve myself out of existence – no, nothing extreme like a root canal, we’re still talking about a filling. I told you I was phobic. The point is, now that the anesthetic’s worn off, half of my face aches. The filling feels rough (nope, still not leaving it alone), and I still can’t (well, won’t) chew on that side.
All in all, eating is more trouble than it’s worth lately. Low blood sugar makes me er, rather fierce, so I take the occasional bite of something to prevent that (my kids might dispute that last point, actually), but for the most part, food = meh.
It’s weight loss for masochists!
Song du jour of the day: Eat It, by Weird Al.