Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.
eliade

night of the iguanna

I need a new word, a special word, a word that means, "The Thursday upon which one receives the blessing of one's period, exhausts oneself at the gym, has a wisdom tooth pulled, and then is unable to have a Jack & Coke because it might disintegrate the blood clot that is protectively covering a gaping hole full of bare jawbone." That word would be mmphhhhhxxxx.

But I remain perky! Perky! ...oh who am I kidding. I want a chocolate bar. It's really just the small fact that all the chocolate bars in the world--think about that, all the chocolate bars in the world--lie outside my apartment, rather than inside, that keeps me from this indulgence.

Five hours later and my jaw is still numb. I wonder if I could stick tacks in my face without pain? I could post memos on myself. But no, no. No.

I'd write, but there are elves in my head. Soft fluffy elves. They are whispering a word, a special word. I think it is "couch."
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