For lunch today I had a chicken breast. I ate it with a plastic fork.
When I had just one bite left, I noticed that one tong was broken off a about a third of the way up. The fork wasn't broken when I began to eat. I looked around the plate and on my desk. No broken prong anywhere. So apparently, I ate it.
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My right leg is really painful. I haven't done anything resembling working out in about 7 years, so I know it's not sore. But it feels just like how I recall both of my legs feeling during my early teen years when I was growing an inch a week (give or take). It's just a dull pain that emanates from the bone. I've had this issue on and off for weeks. I'd like to think I am in another growth spurt.
Then again, it's probably this whole turning 30 thing. I swear that my back has ached, my legs have hurt and my memory has diminished every day since Feb 7. The dementia sets in next Thursday I think.
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I had a short dentist appointment at noon today. By that, I mean the appointment was short. My dentist is normal height.
I had to stop in and get some whitening trays. The cool thing is that in addition to getting the little plastic sleeves that slide onto my teeth, the dentist gave me the actual cement molds of my mouth that she made in order to fabricate the trays.
So now, I have this perfect replica of my mouth. Man, I am giddy with possibilities of fun things I can do with this. Not everyone has a life sized-replica of their own mouth!
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I realize that I never talked about that dentist appointment where they made the molds. Basically, the dental hygienist fills a tray with this goop and then sticks your upper or lower row of teeth into it. As you sit there, it hardens. Then, she wiggles it off.
Well, we had problems getting mine to work. My wisdom teeth are very far back and so, time after time, my back teeth would be sticking out of the back of the mold. So in order to get a workable mold of ALL the top and bottom teeth, we actually did this routine 6 times.
Each time, she'd try a bigger tray full of this little pink cement-goop that she had to keep mixing up. Finally, she said, "Well, that was my biggest tray. I don't know what to do."
I suggested that we stick my jaw in a bucket. She said that wouldn't work.
On try 5, I said, "I feel really bad that I'm wasting all your mouth Spackle."
She didn't smile and just said, "It's not Spackle."
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I am still cleaning my condo every morning before coming to work in case someone may come view it for purchase. It's frustrating because it feels for naught. Not one person has viewed the house yet.
And you know, the one time I say "screw it" and don't pick up my underwear, someone will come for a showing.
4 comments:
I have those kind of leg pains all the time. I just figured I had bone cancer. Maybe we can share a hospital room together.
I like how vingette No. 2 in this collection of stories reads like Shel Silverstein's "Sara Cynthia Syvlia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out" in prose...very well done. Shel would be proud...
...on second thought...this well-crafted story scares me :) because that means our future children will like your stories better than mine, and I'll be voted out of bedtime stories...sigh...
;)
Voted out of bedtime stories? Heh. Me and the kids are making an alliance and you'll be voted off the island, too. :)
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