Have I really not posted since Tuesday? I blame Matt. And, you know, the manuscript. But mostly Matt.

See, he got his wisdom teeth out on Wednesday morning. Yes, yes, he’s a little old to be getting wisdom teeth pulled out. And no, things aren’t going badly–no excessive swelling, no bruising, no infection–but there is at least the usual amount of pain, discomfort, boredom, and malcontent about eating soft foods. Though I must say I make a mean batch of instant pudding, and I’m getting good at peanut butter banana chocolate milkshakes.

Unfortunately, it’s my turn to have my wisdom teeth out in a few weeks. And yes, I do have an excuse for being this old without having them out. Even now, mine are only partially exposed, which means I don’t even remember them coming in. For a while, I’m pretty sure I remember thinking I just didn’t have any. But they’re there, partially exposed, and apparently in danger of collecting plaque and other bad things to have collecting in my mouth, and there’s a risk of infection if I just leave them, and I’m sure I’m telling you all more than you wanted to know.

At any rate, I already knew I was going to be a total wuss about my whole wisdom-teeth-removal-recovery, but now I’m even more apprehensive. See, since mine aren’t exposed, are in fact mostly covered by my gums, I think I’m very likely going to need stitches. I have never, ever had stitches before, especially not in my mouth. If I have stitches, I’ll also have to have them removed. I am not excited about any aspect of the possibility of stitches. In my mouth.

And then there’s the fact that I have chronic problems with my jaw, and I’m afraid that having them put me to sleep and prop my mouth open as wide as it will go for an hour will end up with me being entirely unable to move my jaw, much less chew anything for days (not that I’ll be chewing much anyway, of course). And then there’s the fact that, you know, when I actually open my mouth all the way I have to do this sideways pop thing to get it to close again. I can just imagine them trying to close my mouth while I’m still sedated, unable to do it because it’s locked open. Fabulous.

Matt tells me this is why I’ll have a consult appointment before we schedule the surgery, and that I shouldn’t worry, but I don’t feel anxious. I’m not worried. I’m just realistic, and the reality is that it’s really going to stink. A lot. And it’s going to hurt. A lot.

So now that you all know why I don’t want to get my wisdom teeth out, I should probably mention that the novel is coming along. My percentage meter method of gauging progress is entirely unhelpful at this point, so I’ll just say that I’ve written two scenes, fixed another scene and a half, and still have to fix/finish half a scene and then write two or three legends. Myths. Stories that form the structure upon which an entire culture builds their worldview. You know, the little details are always best to save until last. Oy.

But really, things are going well. Honest.

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