The day after I got back from San Fran (which I will tell you aaaaall about in a later post), I had the joy of getting my wisdom teeth out!! Whoohoo!!!! Doesn't that sound like the most amazing "welcome home" present ever?! Trying to convince myself it was a blast by using excessive exclamation points!
The procedure itself went pretty well. I had never been under anesthesia before, so this was quite the trip for me. They stuck the needle in my arm and said, "Ok, now just relax...." The next thing I remember, I woke up on Kevin's recliner 4 hours later in a puddle of drool. I have a cloudy memory in there of them waking me up- I demanded to see my extracted teeth, then got belligerent when they would not let me keep them. Because of course, everyone wants to keep their bloody, rotten, cracked wisdom teeth, right? Make a necklace out of them? Put them in a scrapbook or shadowbox? Who do they think they are! Gimmie muh teef!
More often than not, I try to abide by the "shut up and run" motto, not letting the plethora of excuses persuade me to lay on the couch with a box of Cheez-Its and watch 4 episodes of LOST rather than venture out for a run. But yesterday, I am sorry, I just couldn't do it. We all have our limits, and this wimpy gal couldn't fathom putting on running shoes while my entire face was throbbing. Also, my limited diet of mashed potatoes and soup has left me feeling a bit empty. So I did indeed go home, curled up with a nice bowl of pudding, and watched TV... for 5 hours. Booyah.
Today, no excuses...
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