Yesterday, I had oral surgery. For the second time in three months. It was actually the same operation all over again to improve the results of the first one. Which did not turn out so well. I won't bore you with further details. Suffice it to say that I am sitting on the couch, watching stupid soap operas and wishing I could sink my teeth into something solid.
Yesterday, before going into the city for the procedure, I stopped at Girardini's Pizza around the corner from my house in order to have one last slice of that good Brooklyn Pizza. Sort of like a last meal...at least for the next few days. I thought that would hold me over, but now I am sitting here thinking: old fashioned slice. My stomach is growling. Soup just does not hit the spot. I already had "Roasted Pepper Tomato" and "Creamed Corn". I think I will make Miso next and a shake for dessert.
Yes, I admit. I am feeling sorry for myself. This is no fun. My mouth is killing me and my cheek is all swollen. I look like a little hamster. But as I am writing this, big snowflakes started falling outside and Dr. Phil is bashing some poor slob on T.V. So things are looking up!
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