Weirdly enough I had a drive through Hilda Ross retirement village and I fell in love slowly and suddenly. For those brief minutes I wished I was dependent and my cells were shrivelled with age so I could buy one of those townhouses within the confines of a safe and secure sunny estate with a awesome pond and 24/7 nurse accessibility :O I would have all the time in the world to myself to do.. whatever I want to! i could write a book, be an online criminal or celebrity, learn 10 new instruments or exercise my domestic abilities for that once a year opportunity to see my children, successful and famous overseas with spoilt pretty children :D that would be the life.
Well I'm halfway there in the way that I can't eat solids and my memory's as good as a gnat. I spent half an hour looking for my mobile phone yesterday to find it was attached to my neck :P
I'm beginning to resent taking those premolars out. It was $150 for 10 minutes of the actual extraction and an hour in the waiting room with nothing but old women magazines and brooding suspense. My mouth constantly tastes like blood (morbid) and my other teeth have formed a furry top layer from lack of brushing. While I'm sadly eating mushy potatoes and soup I repeat the mantra in my head that this is for cosmetic purposes... it will help me get a nice job one day... with paid holiday leave... and maternity leave... and medical insurance.........................
So I will make use of my current youth and do what youth do best, procrastinate and complain. Chow!
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And slobbered, wet, mushy crackers which I've just forgotten the name of... lime green box... skinny rugby ball shape... sour cream and chives (was that it?)... barbershop lunchtimes...
ARGH annoying. WHAT are they called? I can see it... short word... gosh...
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