Cleolinda Jones (cleolinda) wrote,
Cleolinda Jones
cleolinda

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It was a day.

Oh. My God. I am seriously about to do a Tylenol and vodka shooter if I can't get the pain in my wisdom-toothless gums down to a dull roar ("It's like playing Civil War field hospital!"). It's raining and I have to go to class and holy migraine Batman!, I didn't write the sample pages for the children's book and WAAAAAAAAA.

All right. I feel better. Thanks.

Blogged a good bit today. That was productive. (Good trailer, awful trailer, hippogriff pic from Harry Potter, X-Files 2 after all, script pages from an Elijah Wood movie, Hellboy might actually be good. There. You're caught up.) Read over the first Lemony Snicket book again to get in the proper age-group mindset, story pacing, etc. Didn't help. But it was productive. Somehow. (Just trust me on this.) I did write out a six-page outline for the story last night, a full 24 hours in advance, so that was good. And the rain is washing all the pollen off my yellow car. This is particularly good because it was red when I bought it.

Had my one-week checkup at Dr. Buck's. I waited for half an hour, and then he appeared at 1:58. He took out a big plastic syringe filled with green liquid and said, "I just want to make sure you don't have any food traps. This might hurt."

"Okay..."

[Blast of minty freshness in each of the two lower sockets.]

"Oh, so... what was that, just Scope or something? That didn't hurt at a..."

"Okay, you can go now."

[Clock: 2:01.]

"WHAT?"

"That's all. You can go."

"I WANT MY MONEY BACK!!"

"You're not paying for this visit."

" Shut up, man."

And he didn't even give me any more painkillers for my trouble. Dammit.
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