Happy Friday the 13th!

My day started poorly, with horrible traffic leaving me 40 minutes late to the dentist. But from there, all went well.

General anaesthetic is a happy, wobbly thing.

Vicodin is also happy. So are yogurt and blueberry soup.

I have been fitted with a stylish ice-wimple, so I don't have to hold things on my head all day. The packs don't stay cold as long as full sized ice-packs, but hey--it's an ice-wimple.

The damn migrating gauze pads are less happy, but I think I'll survive.

Vicodin gives me weird dreams, but sadly the boy-whores haven't shown up yet.

How are you?

Memery, with a side of pudding

I think I've eaten all the yogurt-based food I can manage for a while. I found a nice cucumber feta soup recipe, though, that can easily be turned into Super Tzatziki.

Tomorrow, tomato basil soup! Maybe by Sunday I'll be really crazy and move on to oatmeal.

And now, that giant memamajig that everyone is doing.

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The boy-whores are telling me a lot about Erisin I didn't know. Like the refugee shanty-town near the haunted palace, and the demon cults that keep springing up around it. At least the brain works on Vicodin, even if I'm too sluggy to write.