For Want Of A Better Word/Phrase/Life

N.B. Possible TW, bad language and general whinging and complaining.

This is one of those days that can only be described as wasted. But not wasted in every sense of the word, no, no, no, I have not had any alcohol since Wednesday evening so I have been sober for 72 hours. And also (I can’t quite believe I’m saying this, I think maybe I dreamt it or imagined it but I think it did happen), earlier today I was offered super-strong mind-altering tramadol and I turned it down. I said no. What, not even one? No I’m okay thanks. Well just take a couple anyway in case you change your mind. Nah I’m good. Are you sure? You’ll be buzzing off your tits when it mixes with your other meds hahaha. No I don’t want them okay just get them away from me, now, please, thanks. So I am sober, entirely, but the day has been wasted.

My wisdom teeth are, for want of a better word, fucked (top right = two wisdoms coming through in the same place, fighting for room to erupt at weird angles, bottom right = impacted and just being a bastard). So the surrounding gums are consequently swollen and bleeding and infected and it’s all fucking gross. So my right cheek is swollen and my jaw is even worse and I can’t concentrate on reading or writing or art because the pain is so exquisite and my brain feels like it’s going to fall out. Hence my day being wasted.

Apart from visiting my dad this morning, doing a few local errands for him, reading Neal Cassady’s ‘The Joan Anderson letter’ and seeing a man wearing shorts, a t-shirt and flip flops in the snow, I have actually done nothing today, which annoys me greatly because, for want of a better phrase, I have the same amount of hours in a day as Beyonce. Or something. I don’t know. Whatever.

I like pain because by feeling pain I know that I am alive and that I am capable of feeling things even when I think I am dead inside and believe that I am a zombie. And so I get tattoos, and wax my legs and do my own piercings because that’s more safe/responsible/acceptable than slitting my wrists or smashing my head against the wall or getting spanked. But this pain is not satisfying in the slightest, it’s just dull, uncomfortable and constant constant constant.

My teeth have been causing me serious grief since July but I can’t afford to go to the dentist and certainly can’t afford to have all the treatments I need. So alas I shall persevere, wait until all 5 (!) wisdom teeth have erupted, and yank them out with the same pair of pliers that Daddy uses to pull all his teeth out when they hurt him because he can’t afford the dentist either. Why the fuck did you ever go private? We didn’t you muppet, we’re with the NHS… it costs the best part of £20 just for a check up, we’re talking £60 or so for extractions and fillings… Shit. Pliers it is then. Welcome to David Cameron’s Britain, enjoy your stay.

To quote Mark ‘Chopper’ Read:
Whinge, whinge, fucking whinge!

I need a tramadol or four…..

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