After getting my wisdom teeth pulled this afternoon (which was surprisingly easy and mostly pain free) I’ve discovered why people become addicted to Vicodin.
Seeing an old $20 bill is weird. There’s no HUGE Jackson face. No big, Monopoly money looking numeral 20 on the back.
Plus it’s from 1963. I love old money. Somethings I like to think about where it’s been. What it’s seen.
I had my wisdom teeth pulled today. I only have the two on top, none on the bottom.
It wasn’t as bad as everyone said. I had my eyes closed the entire time because I did not want to see those instruments in my mouth, nor did I want to see the teeth coming out. I did keep them though. Nothing more interesting than seeing a tooth fully extracted.
Just a tip:
If you are in an accident, and you don’t have rental car coverage, don’t tell anybody. Every person I talk to about my accident asks me if I have rental car insurance. I tell them no and they ask me “why not?” BECAUSE I DON’T! I don’t need it, we have two cars and can carpool, and I don’t need the extra expense no matter how little the cost.
I’m amazed at how people think they are helping by pointing out why you should have something when you clearly don’t give a shit about having it in the first place.
I marked through the word jealous in the dictionary
hoping I wouldn’t feel so.
I scratched through envy
for its hold on me was getting tight.
I blacked out anticipation
for the results rarely live up to the hype.
I erased originality
because I couldn’t think of anything new.
I tried to throw the dictionary away.
wrap up the words and dispose of their existence and meaning.
It’s cold in STL
and you’re around…
I’m broken down in the middle of the road.
I’m blocking traffic; it’s no big deal.
I thought once I could fall,
while trying to run.
You came up and tripped me,
proving me right.
I’m on the side of the road now.
64/40 doesn’t look the same.
The sea of red,
2 & 3.
The see of yellow,
2 & 2.
It’s all frozen in the middle,
but I can still move.
No, it’s only frozen a little.
And it’s only noon.
It’s cold and cloudy in St. Louis.
And I’m loved.
It’s warm inside my wool.
And I’m loved.
And I’m still in St. Louis
And I’m still loved.
I’m living on pennies.
Kennedy takes up too much space.
Squandering my life, living in this copper place.
Haven’t enough to live
Too poor to die
I’ve slept in the soup kitchens.
Stole a spoon
but what for?
Stainless steel is cold, sterile and hard.
I’ve walked fifth avenue
Saks won’t have me.
Sleeping on the shelter floor,
I’ve set my shoes on fire for warmth.
Is living worth living if there is no one to live for?
Is living worth living if my only home is an asbestos-tile floor?