It has been one of those weeks where you just can't seem to catch up with the world--you're swimming through work and the feeling of walking to your car at quitting time is comparable to exiting a battlefield, and you get home and are overwhelmed with all of the real life chores waiting to be done.
You remember you need to get your car inspected and renew your registration, but the guy gives you a discount because you're cute and nice (a one-two punch! the mechanic says), which gives you a lift....until you have to carry your golf clubs from the backseat up 3 flights of stairs, and that 5 iron is teetering dangerously the entire way, threatening to CLONG BANG TING! back down to the bottom, perhaps knocking some poor child down on its way.
Your kitchen is a swamp and you don't know what to cook. There isn't any meat left--looks like spaghetti again! Which is useful considering the obscenely painful toothache you've been suffering all week.
So you put some extra seasoning in the sauce and that livens it up considerably. With some garlic bread and Cabernet, that was actually a lovely meal.
That perks you up a bit, enough to get the kitchen decently cleaned...until the dishwasher is packed so full there isn't any room to complete it tonight. Damn! It will lie in wait until tomorrow evening....
So you tackle the bathtub drain, which has been a bit sluggish since that questionable dinosaur bath bomb.
And the closet simply must be taken care of, it is the ringleader of these home chore monsters, with clothes stacked so high you can't see the carpet anymore, but at this point all you can do is yank on your pajamas and turn on a Die Hard.
Which is precisely what I ended up doing last night.
This morning I went into the oral surgeon because, once again, I am having severe pain and my second implant post has been completely enveloped by swelling.
I'm going to have to write an entire post dedicated to explaining my medical situation because boy, it is complicated.
But at this point, I am just waiting to get 2 false teeth implanted on my two metal posts that stick out of my gums. I am supposed to be at the conclusion of the process, but keep having problems with swelling/infections at the post sites.
Today my doctor decided that the best option now is to forget about a second tooth. I am having surgery on Friday and they will remove the post and put a cap on it, so it will be flush with my gums again. He calls it "putting it to sleep" and that, after he guts the infection and gives me antibiotics, should allow it to heal and not continue to act up.
I am deeply disappointed. I have gone through so much (this process has taken me a year and a half and been quite painful) and to learn that I've lost one of those posts is incredibly upsetting.
I'll get over it, but right now I'm in shock. And just sad.
I babied those posts! I brushed and flossed and water-piked and even rinsed with this disgusting mouthwash the surgeon gave me that stains my teeth brown but keeps the implant site squeaky clean.
I kind of feel like I failed my poor post.
So to soothe my shell shocked nerves-frayed self, I was reading up today on baths.
Strange, I know, but I live for water and completely believe in hydrotherapy (it works wonders for me!!) and I was curious about the history of baths, and other nerdy things. Et cetera.
As Sylvia Plath said,
"There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them."
But she put her head in an oven..so that's one right there.
Anyway, in my soothing bath research I picked up this marvelous fact:
The United States consumes enough water in one day for every American to take 64 baths.
sixty. four. baths.
in a day!
That would certainly make me feel better.
Is it abnormal that I perceive this as a challenge...?
We'll see how many baths I can get up to during my recovery..