My Week So Far...

I am officially bored. Normally I come home after a frenzied day in the office, the booming voices of my dear colleagues still reverberating around in my head. By this point in the day my synapses are close to snap and I just want to chill out on the couch. But this week the office has been eerily calm and at occasional moments so quiet that apart from the mesmeric whir of the computer machines, you would be forgiven for expecting tumbleweed to skip past and then for Clint Eastwood to appear from the Nuclear Library (in my head a Saloon bar) and challenge me to a duel. As you can probably tell I am bored at work as well!

So I arrive home from the unusually peaceful office somewhat hungry for excitement and it is then that I realize just how calm and quiet my house is. Shame.
But that's how I feel this evening. This week did start out a lot worse. On Monday evening after a day of bothersome toothache, I unwittingly chewed on a piece of stale bread and it caused reverberations of nerve pain through my face so acute that I thought I was going to be physically sick.
So I swore almightily and heartily (softened slightly by the hand clamped to my jaw) and lay on the couch with the expression someone adopts when told their £300 00 car has been smashed. Having adopted said expression for over 12 hours, it is safe to say that I have acquired 56 new wrinkles. (a very exact figure you may say but I do lean in close to the mirror and count)

I went to the dentist the following morning and parked my car ever so slightly illegally in Tesco car park - I don't care though, Tesco have enough money and the very slight inner socialist in me feels smug. I went to the dentist where they know me so well by now that I need not present myself, I just sat there grimace
set and gaze aimed at the tv screen (which seems to perpetually broadcast This Morning - I thought Gigantic Bosum, aka Fern Britten had left)

After what seemed an age (and I know it was because my gaze was so fixed and mesmerized to the TV that I looked like an extra from Shaun of the Dead) the dentist finally called me in.
Now I know my dentist to be the most modest man in the world, so I always try to make that extra effort to convey just how much pain I have been in. I record pneumatic drill noises and inform him that that is mere birdsong compared with the pain in my head, I remind him of atomic explosions in the Far East and insist to him that all this is nothing comparable with my throbbing jaw.
With the explanation over and done with he looks at me in his deadpan way, sighs and says 'right I suppose we had better x-ray it then'. (I have by now had so many x-rays that I could provide half the electricity supply for a nuclear power plant)

He tells me there seems to be nothing untoward on the x-ray (it seems to me that there is nothing on it at all, I suggest they invest in new equipment). He then informs me of his pleasure that there is no swelling in the gum - hurrah! my day has been made, he has finally cracked a comment that is less underwhelming than Titanic.

I leave the dentist clutching a bag of antibiotics and mildly confused still about what could be torturing my root-canaled tooth. I then proceed straight to work whereby I attempt to eat in such a way that A: avoids half of my mouth, and B: makes me look cool. It so happens that one of my work colleagues fears I am having a stroke and starts repeating the FAST mantra out loud in the office.

So there chums is just a little insight into my week so far. In other news, today I happened to see a lorry massacre a bunch of flowers and last night I cooked a salmon risotto so immense it could happily have assisted the UN in their world-hunger relief programme. (it was also so thick it would have insulated an Inuit's igloo)

Goodbye for now.