Speaking of looking like a raptor tried pecking your eye out...
So, there was a little complication with the root canal on Monday. No one is positive what happened, though they think the irrigating solution (read, "bleach") somehow got from the bleeding root to my eye, and then down through my jaw to my throat. Not surprisingly, he wasn't able to finish the procedure, so I still need to go back and have it finished. The tooth is still throbbing, but compared to my face and throat...
Yeah. That sucked. The Ear Nose and Throat specialist had to put a tube down my throat from my nose to look around, and that didn't hurt as they numb you first, but it was the weirdest sensation. I hope I never have to do that again. I still can't really open my jaw. I've had two courses of antibiotics, and a course of steroids, so most of the swelling around the eye has gone down, or my face has swelled up so much from the Prednisone that you can't tell. Either way, I was finally able to see well enough out of that eye again to get dressed and go out-five days after it happened. So I know what you're thinking, "What could you wear to boost your confidence when you look like an obese Cabbage Patch doll with a raging case of the mumps, and a shiner?" If you were thinking, "white pleats" then, "Ding, ding, ding!" you're a winner. You don't really win anything. I could send you one of these instant-cold ice paks if you really want one. I can't say enough nice things about instant cold ice paks after this week. All those years in theatre came in handy when it was time to apply makeup. I think I did a fairly impressive job of it, if I may pat my own back. I almost look human. Well. all right, from certain angles.
The shiny, satin blouse didn't help either. Is this a face that looks like it cares? Exactly. I really couldn't smile if I had to-my face is sort of stuck into this position. Kind of like Botox, but without the age-erasing benefits.
I think the glasses do a good job of disguising the eye. I had to vote on Tuesday, and as I kept running into people I knew at the polling place, I had to go through the whole story each time because I didn't want anyone thinking my husband had punched me or something. Our polling place is at the library, so of course I know everyone there-and managed to run into every single one of them in the ten minutes I was in the place. I could barely see the ballot (one eye, and unable to wear glasses at that point). I really hope I didn't inadvertently vote for someone I didn't want. I know that none of the people I wanted to win did (save for one congressman) but that's fairly typical of my experience living in very conservative Nebraska.
1970's pleated skirt-Goodwill
1980's satin blouse-Goodwill
1950's (or 60's) Janice Brendt beaded cardigan-Hand-Me-Ups
Shell Earrings-Hand Me Ups
Fragrance- Jovan, Woman (I should hate this cheap stuff, but in fact I adore it)
Yeah, that face isn't moving anytime soon.
Finally, I stopped to pick up a few groceries. They had cabbage for .69 cents a pound, which is outrageous, but less than the normal outrage, so I bought one. The cashier rang it up at .99 per pound. I told her it was on sale, so the bagger ran back to check, and said, it was .99
I try to pick my fights wisely, and I don't know if it was the pain, the steroid medication, or the fact that they want me to pay a buck a pound for a goddamned cabbage but I grabbed the manager, and we all marched over to the giant bin filled with cabbage that read, .69 cents. This store will give you the purchase free if the price is wrong, so rather than void the original ring-up, she gave me a credit for $3.70 which would have been fine, except that the cabbage rang up originally at $3.74. I think we all know where this is going. It isn't the .4 cents, it is the fact that I had just spent $184.00 on groceries and I didn't feel like dealing with anymore bullshit, four cents or not. I think I might have been channeling my Mum, Nan, and Mama Bess all at once in some sort of old-lady-cheapskate trifecta, but I had had it. Thankfully, the gentleman in line behind me was already quite lit as it is Friday afternoon, and when I apologised for taking so long he just took that as an opportunity to share what wisdom he had gleaned from reading the scandal sheets as we waited for someone more senior to be called to the register to resolve the cabbage dispute. At any rate, he was nice about it.
"But why do you call it a "Bird Feeder" if you don't want me eating the birds? Feed me some birds, damnit! It doesn't have to be anything fancy like a robin, a couple good sized sparrows would do."
I bought myself a dozen roses on the way home because I can't bite off anyone's head and eat their entrails like spaghetti. At least not until my jaw loosens up.
My weekend is going to be spent in bed with an icepak on my face, and a hot water bottle on my gut. I hope yours is much better.