Friday, August 05, 2005

Day 26

I spent the morning of day twenty-five in the loving arms (fingers, anyway) of Dr. Beautiful Oriental Angelic Hottie. After inflicting two hours of health care upon me, I went home and tried to sleep off the Novocain. As I feared, I’m now too well-rested to take naps. I did mange to doze for about ten minutes, but that was it. I found that the experience wasn’t too bad as long as I didn’t move my face and resisted the urge to scratch the tingling areas. Live fingers on dead facial flesh does not feel good, at least not when the face is your own. :p

When the anesthesia wore off I found I had almost no lingering pain or soreness. BHD lives! Normally after I’ve had some major medical torture I feel too puny to do anything but lay around and indulge myself with loads of ice cream and bad TV, but yesterday I went to the market (and found some very expensive, fancy-schmancy, and hoity-toity cheddar cheese with the words Red, Dragon, Ale, and Mustard in the title), watched a NetFlix movie, dropped it off at the post office, went to the gym (and upped my workout a notch), showered, cooked dinner, read, and then wrote for awhile. I made the mistake of going to bed at my usual time instead of my newer, later time and awoke completely refreshed at five o’clock on the morning of day twenty-six. I still managed to be late for work, which is fine since they’ve got me on the stinking customer complaint phone line again today.

So, five days remain in the great experiment (including today). I have more energy all week long (although I’m a long way from becoming as intense as I would like to be), my head is bullet-proof, and now I don’t even need as much sleep, which came as a real surprise to me. I’ve also noticed my memory is slightly, um, what do you call it? Oh, yeah. Better. I can remember little things like phone numbers, computer codes, and what to do at traffic signals (e.g. red = draw blood) without looking things up. Next week I shall attempt to fly off my balcony under my own power.

On the downside of life, I just made my final date with Dr. BOAH. The romance is coming to an end. If I tell her I want to have her baby, will she be charmed by my clumsy attempt at romantic humor, or will it come across as a bit stalker-ish? Should I say the line straight to her face instead of going with my current plan of infiltrating her house under the cover of darkness and whispering it to her from beneath her bed? Am I doomed and, if so, what difference does it make?

4 comments:

Sarcasmo said...

You're doomed. DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMed

annush said...

I say you break a few teeth so you have to go back and get them fixed...prolong the affair just a little bit.

Valkyrie said...

This reminded me of your troubles:

Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like 'maybe we should just be friends' or 'how very perceptive' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love. Rose Walker, in Sandman: The Kindly Ones by Neil Gaiman

Nobius said...

Tell Randi, I love The Kindly Ones and have read it about 15 times.

As for you, you should write a book about your recent "diet" or film a documentary! :)