Post-Op Ruminations

It's been a little over a week since I had my wisdom teeth out. Thankfully, I no longer look like the drugged up, puffy-faced weirdo in the pic above. Sneaky old Dad took advantage of my delirium while in the recovery room (of which I have no recollection) and snapped a quick post-op memento so I could cherish my fat face for all eternity. I must have been flying high because apparently I felt good enough to give him the old thumbs-up.

The recovery period hasn't been as bad as I expected. Aside from the fact that I can barely slurp, let alone chew, my mouth feels pretty decent. I have discovered that I hate pain meds, so am currently in possession of an almost full bottle of hydrocodone tablets, the generic for what I think is Vicodin. They're supposed to make you relaxed and happy, but they made me feel so woozy and disoriented that I can't understand why anyone would take them for fun. But prescription pain medicine is one of the most highly-abused drugs in the world, so apparently there's a market. Maybe I can sell them. You know, $5 a pop or something like that. I'M KIDDING! I would never aid someone's drug addiction to line my own pockets. Although I've always thought I would make the perfect drug dealer. Nobody would ever suspect me. Better I just flush them down the toilet. Or give them to a squirrel to see what happens. KIDDING AGAIN! Geez, you people need to lighten up. Hey, I've got a little blue pill that can help with that...