"The Flaming Lips"

Be careful what you wish for...

For the past week, I've been enduring a disgustingly painful toothache. After a lifetime of no cavities, I'm afraid my luck has finally run out. Growing up, I visited the dentist regularly, every six months, but in the past six or seven years (the exact amount of time since I left the last job I held that offered decent insurance), dental exams and cleanings have occurred far less frequently.

Also, moving to a new town, I have no "primary" dentist nearby that I can call and have this mess straightened out. I tried to tough it out until my probationary period at my new job is complete and I can get back on a decent health/dental plan, but today I acknowledged that might not be a possibility—I'm petrified that this mouth rot is causing the scientific condition known as "stank bref," and being the new guy at work, nobody wants to be labeled as "the dude with a smelly mouth."

I've been downing Tylenol like Pez (even keeping two pills by the bed for the inevitable wake up jolt of pain around 3 a.m.), but I've been craving something else to mask the pain.

Tonight, I got my wish.

While clipping the bush in front of our townhome (which, despite the "complimentary" lawn service, we are required to maintain for some odd reason) I was stung on the lip by an outraged wasp, who apparently preferred the overgrown mess of a hedge to the neatly trimmed shrub I was attempting to sculpt.

I now feel like I have a marble lodged in my upper lip, and it's throbbing as if there were a miniscule dance club inside. I can't open my mouth very far without the fear of my lip splitting, and I have a nice headache to accompany my protruding lip.

But, hey, at least my tooth isn't bothering me anymore.