15 June 2005
I'm having my wisdom teeth out one week from today. This is sounding like a better decision by the second: they hurt. I was thinking I should have the crunchy, pokey things I won't want immediately after the surgery, but it turns out I already don't want them. My jaw is sore, and nothing sounds good to eat. Food for the last several days has been in the category of Making An Effort more than the category of Hungry For That. This is suboptimal, especially as my energy levels are not the best, and that can get to be a vicious circle for me. I can already hear my parents prescribing ice cream.
I've been running around erranding the last few days and as a result am still reading The Ionian Mission. I've removed many useful things from the list and modified many others, but I'm still working on "Singing Them Back," too. Sometimes I think I should keep a running "have done" list just to keep myself appraised of what I've managed.
As we do not live in a circa 1972 space station, another furniture store has been crossed off the list entirely. Not that I dislike circa 1972 space stations, mind you. It's just that the key part of them is the space thing, not the furniture design.
I found more ways to look like a frump or a teenage hooker. Oh joy. I did not spend money on any of these methods. Why does it seem that no one I know is the target market for clothes?
And just now, that's about all I have the energy to tell you.
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