Lilo & Stitch

So I'm at work.

It always seems like that's a mistake. I come to work after a great weekend- it's a mistake. I come to work after a shitty weekend- it's a mistake. I come to work after having three permanant teeth removed- it's a fucking mistake.

My mouth hurts more today than it has throughout the entire removal process, and that bothers me a little bit. I think it's due to the fact that my mouth is healing, and here at work I have to do a lot of consistiant talking.

Plus, I have stitches in my mouth.

Arrrg.

I really hate having things dangling off of my skin, or stuck between my teeth. I like to floss with whatever's avalible whenever I feel as though there's some random gunk, or food particles stuck inbetween my mother of pearlies. I pick at zits, scars, rashes, flakey skin, and hate wearing band-aids for prolonged periods of time.

I don't much care for having forigen shit on me. Now there's forgien shit IN me.

Oh it's horrible.

I'm like an animal, because I'm seriously trying to pull my fucking stitches out. They drive me mad, and they itch, and they're in my fucking mouth. When I tug at them, it hurts, but I mean, they're attached to my gums, so that's to be expected.

I just want them to go the fuck away.

My cheeks are swolen and sore, and there isn't much I can do abou that. I get these insane, blinding headaches (probabally due to the fact that I tug on the stitches in my mouth) that come and go like a summer breeze.

And my dumb ass came to work.

I've actually been feeling rather okay for the past few days. My mouth hasn't hurt, it's just been all swolen and fat. I can't open my mouth very far, but I mean, that's to be expected because it's sewn that way.

More later, I'm kinda busy.

Love and adoration,

pam