Mouth, Ow

13th December 2002

When you don’t leave the house for four days because your mouth hurts when you speak, eat, or breathe, and the medication makes you feel like your brain is swaddled in wool, you find new ways to measure self-worth. For example, a while ago I purchased a lot of spaghetti noodles–too many spaghetti noodles, some might say. (Drat the two-for-one and it’s terrible draw!)

Yesterday, as I shuffled into the pantry for a small spoonful of smooth peanut butter and marshmallow cream, I noticed that we’ve eaten nearly all the spaghetti. This gave me an inexplicable surge of accomplishment. Time to take a shower.