I think I need to have another party so I'll be forced to get my house presentable. Why is it so hard to get motivated to clean? Ugh.
Stacy went to the hospital twice this weekend with contractions. Doctors say she's showing no signs of labor, so by all appearances, these seem to be those notorious Braxton Hicks. Thank goodness.
I've got a face pain problem. I burned the roof of my mouth the other night on one of those bullshit french bread pizza things, and it's been tender ever since. This morning, though, it hurt when I brushed my teeth in a way it didn't when I went to bed last night. And I've had this bruised feeling in my face all day that I thought was sinus pain until I came home for lunch and realized it hurt to chew on the left side. Fuck. Of course, with all the awesome health insurance I've got, I have no dental coverage. And I've got like $100 in the bank because Jimi was kind enough to give me a break on my part of the mortgage payment this month because I overextended myself last week and I was going to be completely broke till this coming Friday. (In other words, I don't have the cash on hand to visit a dentist.) And I don't have a credit card, so that's not a quick-pay option.
How long do you wait to figure out if weird shit like this is "see a dentist" serious or if it'll go away on its own? My gut tells me I've got an infection of some sort in my gumline because of that burn Friday night. I don't think this is a rotten tooth thing, and nothing feels loose. Then again, gumline infections can cause some serious fucking damage - I've got an uncle that had a hip replacement at 50 because of an infection that traveled from his gums (during a teeth cleaning) and went to his hip, dissolving the entire structure within 6 months; he required ridiculous rounds of antibiotics, and at least 2 exploratory surgeries before they had to completely replace his hip. Because he got his teeth cleaned!!! So, I don't want to be all nonchalant and shit.
If I have to see a dentist, I will. I'll borrow the money from Jimi or my boss or my Momma or someone till I get paid Friday, and I'll see someone tomorrow if I have to. I'd just rather not.
I've really not been interested in blogging lately. Well, I have, I just haven't had a thing to say. No Words. My constant complaint. I never have the words.
I'm a little worried about my hermit-ness. I joke about it all the time, but between you and me? I'm a little concerned. Even the idea of going to my Momma's makes me get jittery, forget a trip to Wal-Mart or Burlington or Kroger, even. Contemplating stopping by the grocery on the way home from work makes my heart feel heavy and my stomach flutter. It's all in my head, though - it's all the IDEA of doing things that is so hard - once I'm out in the world, doing things, it's not so bad. That's what Jimi says all the time, "That wasn't so bad, was it?" And it never was as bad as I'd feared it would be, I almost always end up having a good time, but still...I dread having to leave the sanctuary of my home. I resent having things planned to do on weekends when I feel I should be able to sit in my chair and do nothing at all if that's what I want to do...and OH, that is SO what I want to do! I don't look forward to anything. Not if it takes me away ... and I don't even know what I fear being taken away from. My house? My dog and cat? Not Jimi, certainly - he's almost always with me if it's not work or an errand before he's home from work. There's nothing that I do here that is special or unique; there's nothing I'm missing out on by leaving here - I'm missing out on life by staying, though. I realize that. And it scares the fuck out of me.
I wasn't always like this. And I won't always be. I'm working on it. One step, one drive, one visit, one party, one shopping trip, one day at a time.
Doing things when I'm here is hard too, though. I said that once already, didn't I? About the cleaning? Yeah. Cleaning, and re-potting that hibiscus, and that Wandering Jew, and folding all that laundry and finishing the ones that need to be washed...
Ugh. I'd rather read my book, read the internet, play the Sims Pets, watch Judge Judy - I think I'm a perpetual 17 year old, hoping Momma's gonna clean up after me. (And Jimi does, a lot. Bless his heart.)
I felt better when I was watching my calories closely and exercising every day. Imagine that. I wonder if my sudden stop has anything to do with the funk I've fallen into? Wow. I may have just worked that shit out myself, yo.
So, how's your Monday night?
I missed "The Walking Dead" last night. I went to bed at 8:30. I figure they'll show it again before the next episode. I'll see it eventually.
About your Monday night...