ohmygosh!

I have been replete with inspirations lately.

And all sorts of strange and good things are happening. One really good thing: I’ve been coming into lots of money this month! I won $20 at an office Christmas game, got a few very generous checks from family members over the holidays, and have even managed to trick someone into buying a few of my photos. It’s pretty great. Also, work on “Please give me back my keys please” is moving forward at a glacial but steady clip. I’ve also been on a mad unfettering rampage. Time to get rid of all the random crap that’s piled up in my apartment over the last 8 months! I have a rule: every time I open my closet, I have to find another thing to give away. It’s actually sort of fun because my closet is stockpiled with an endless supply of ugly clothing that I never wear anyway. I recommend that everyone try this!

One strange and bad thing: I am growing a tooth in my mouth where there definitely isn’t room for a tooth to grow. Terrified of the sound of cracking bone and completely irrationally sure that I’d be the one person in a thousand who experiences anesthesia awareness (essentially you can feel everything but your whole body is paralyzed, like that weird moment when you wake up from a dream and you sometimes can’t move for a sec, but add in whirring drills and tooth dust tickling your nostrils and you begin to have the picture), I never got my wisdom teeth removed when I was a kid. I don’t know why my parents didn’t simply force me to do it, but I guess that had never been their style, and so I skipped on through my twenties hoping against hope that maybe my wisdom teeth would just never rear their pointy little heads. In my late twenties, each visit to the dentist began to imply otherwise. Over the course of years, my dental X-rays began to read like an ultra-slow-mo time-lapse capture of four insidious little monsters wriggling their way up and out of my jaw bone. Yet I persisted in my delusion.

Now I am 29. And my mouth really hurts. I conveniently have no dental insurance and my parents have regretfully informed me that the statute of limitations for parental financial medical assistance has passed. How to right the problem?

Alas, alack, I am trying to comfort myself with the knowledge that at least I’ll get some good drugs for the several thousands of dollars this will cost me.

Oh, oh, I just had another inspiration: I’m gonna see if I can keep the teeth and make them into a super badass necklace!! Good idea!!

But now I need to stop typing because every time I think about my rouge tooth it starts to ache. Such a nasty, poky little monster!

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