Insomnia? Are you kidding me?

OK, I have a complaint. I'm certainly not overeating. I've quit smoking and usually have been ending the day with a pain pill. But for some reason, for the first time in my life, I seem to be fighting some shitty bout of insomnia! What the fuck? Pain is manageable, so it's not that. In fact, when I was in pain, I got right to sleep. I just had to get up once to deal. But I feel pretty good now. I don't think I'm fixating on anything, at least not consciously. So what gives? Do I need to heat my late night milkshake so it takes the form of "warm milk"? Because seriously.. that's gross. Are my narcotic painkillers playing dirty little tricks on me and having the opposite effect? (I can see them in the corner, huddling... "Timmssess? Oh we hates timssess")

Well, I guess this too is one more little annoyance. Que sera. Don't tell anyone I work with, but I kind of just slept 1-2 hours through my alarm today as a big middle finger to last night. And considering this whole experience isn't really as bad as it might have been, i suppose it's a small price to pay. I once heard it said that "every moment of pleasure is paid for with a moment of pain". Perhaps this is the lesser known cousin "ever moment of not-pain is paid for by a moment of slight annoyance".

Other tiny complaint? I can't seem to smile. It's true. I have these 2 stitches well positioned to effectively prevent me from moving my upper lip into an expression of decent happiness. I will have to suffice with smirking I guess. It's not a bad expression. Better then the morose monkey look (see below). I guess it's all a progression. Maybe I should go play some poker. What better time to play poker then when you are physically incapable of making significant facial expressions?

And I'm past the cane. It's kind of sad really. I liked the cane. It had a certain cachet'. But alas, it's time to return it to gramma. I think I need to get out more. I don't want the Great Outdoors to devolve back into the Great Indoors. So alas, I think it is time to hobble to a nearby cafe and pretend not to hate my job. I don't actually hate my job, I'm just so not feelin' it this week. And it kind of bugs. like those smile preventing stitches. There you have it in a convoluted syllogism. My job is like smile-preventing stitches.

OK, let's see if we have more pictures to share... Yes! we do. First we have the closest thing I can muster to a smile. You can understand my frustration:Next, you will see what my gums look like as they impersonate a stuffed and tied pork loin. Really, I have to give it my OMD. Here's very neat with the stitching (Yeah, no snarky comments about the fillings You all know I drank too much cola as a child. I've heard it before!):