How tragically cliche am I to lay around watching Frida with an ice pack on my face? It's actually embarrassing. As if a couple of teeth can even compare to lifetime chronic pain. This must make it official. I am Germany's hugest pain weenie.
The hubby who's lost teeth by kissing hockey pucks on three different occasions has been very compassionate and helpful but now that we're on day 6 he's kind of wondering when I'll pull myself together. And I'm like, "I passed out watching you get a tattoo." And he laughs because this is actually true and the thought of how I woke up to the concern of a giant biker man is enough to cut me some more slack.
And just for the record, pierced-up tattooed biker guys are the some of the greatest people on earth. If you were on a deserted island or your car is broken down in the middle of the night on the edge of a desert you could pray to the heavens that one comes by. Some of the scariest "looking" people are the smartest and gentlest creatures. It's just one of the world's unexplainable phenomenons.
Not having anything other than a blue Rollerball pen at my disposal, this is what came out on my page. Maybe I'm influenced by all the Ed Hardy merchandise out there or maybe the blue ink just has me thinking about tattoos or whatever. In every instance I promise to snap out of my pain induced stupor soon.