Vicodin dreams

my mouth is a tea cup and i’ve got a string dangling out of the corner of my mouth. but that’s what the instructions said, right? yes. i read them at least five times, and clearly it said: “if there is excessive bleeding after a period of six hours, place a dry tea bag on the surgical site and maintain firm pressure for at least one hour.” i don’t know that it’s necessarily excessively bleeding, but it’s still bleeding after 8 hours and that sure as hell feels excessive to me.

so, i’ve got the tea bag stewing, an icepack pressed up against my left jaw, my hair pulled back in a half-ponytail and surely i am a vision of loveliness. i look like a supermodel, and you’re just wishing you could see.

i am beautiful.

wait, no. i feel like hell, and the vicodin has made me woozy.

i tell myself i will only take it this one last time, because i know what that shit does, it fucks with you man. the bottle’s instructions say take it with food, but the instructions from the oral surgeon (3. Diet – drink lots of liquids including juices, milk, water, soups, etc.) say i shouldn’t be eating more than liquid. i’ve eaten two cups of miso soup and drunk maybe 12 ounces of water. i am hungry. i want ravioli. i want pizza. i want sushi. i want a cheeseburger, yes, a cheeseburger. oh god, i want a double-double with grilled onions, fries and a vanilla shake.

surely it’s the vicodin speaking, because i can’t imagine any other reason i’d be writing this at 2:15am.

i got a tooth pulled today. one of those bloody (no pun intended) wisdom teeth, and it’s been killing me all day and night. i sleep in hour-long intervals. i roll around. i sleep some more. i get up and walk around. i re-freeze my ice pack. i fall back asleep. i check my email. i go back to bed.

i will probably forget this ever happened come morning, and then i’ll open up netscape and see this entry on the screen and laugh at myself.

that is, if my mouth will open wide enough.

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