The Bloody Doors Off

It’s so fucking quiet.

Everyone’s asleep but me.

No city noises.

Just the hum of the portable a/c.

Which will be sorely needed this week.

Sleep was attained easily enough.

No flat sheet needed though.

That would’ve been too hot.

It’s so strange.

It’s 9:21 on a Sunday and I’ve no idea what to do.

I’ve already visited the usual suspect web sites.

Took Auggie out for a pish and poop.

Made coffee.

OH how I miss my Keurig. Finding the fucking on button was ridiculous.

I suppose I could pour another cup and sit on the dock.

Wow. It’s been so long I don’t know how to vacation.

We made it to Minden, despite our best efforts.

That was a joke.

Laugh?

We got a late jump, and a packed car. The four of us arrived and got luggage and food inside moments before we were hit with a torrential downpour.

I thought I hadn’t packed a diabetes medication. Thankfully Marlo had put it in the suitcase.

On the way, we stopped at a Tim Hortons for lunch. It took me 40 minutes to eat my sandwich. At least the dentures stayed in this time.

Learning curve.

If only I hadn’t bitten my tongue earlier.

This place has 3 levels. Top level are two bedrooms and a 2-piece bathroom.

On the main floor, a third bedroom with bunk beds, a 4-piece bath, kitchen, dining room and family room.

There’s a lower floor, but you can only access it from outside.

We haven’t ventured there yet.

It could be a nice getaway.

Plus a back deck with barbecue.

We face the river, and there’s a small dock at the edge with 2 Adirondack chairs.

It’s expected to be brutally hot all week.

We have a mobile air conditioner in the family room, and fans in the bedrooms.

Maddy’s room has a window-mounted a/c unit..

It’s comfortable now; granted, I have a small fan aimed at me, and I’m shirtless.

Wasn’t doing so well when we arrived.

Think I was overheated and dehydrated.

Feeling a bit better now.

But extremely tired.

Maybe I’ll turn in early tonight.

According to the internet, so it must be true, to eat with partials I should use my back teeth.

Which I kinda figured out.

And I should avoid ‘tougher’ meats.

Like steak.

Grilled on the barbecue.

That I’ve been salivating about since Monday.

That I’ve planned to partake of next week, at the cottage.

Fuck you, internet.

I’m having my steak.

Even if I gotta take these suckers out to do it.

Eating is an adventure.

I wanted to take these babies for a test drive.

Got wings.

In retrospect, not the brightest idea.

My dentures kept popping out.

Eventually gave up and ate them without the bloody things.

I think I need to crawl before I can walk.

New teeth, who dis?

If all goes well, I get my transitional dentures in two hours.

I’m bloody pacing.

In my chair.

Because the actual act of pacing might irritate other members of this household.

I mean.

I can barely stay in my skin. Don’t need to subject the family.

Just hope nothing goes wrong.

They haven’t called to reschedule.

So there’s that.

I haven’t vaped since Monday.

Doc Sugarman’s instructions.

No smoking for 4 days.

I don’t really miss it.

I mean I do.

Ah. That’s what it is.

I moved off of the nicotine over a year ago.

So no cravings.

And I just bought a new Mod.

Swirling blues. Reminds me of the TARDIS.

Still got 4 bottles of juice.

I use it as stress relief when working.

An afterthought.

Yet in this moment.

My hand instinctively reaches out for the Mod.

The feeling of brushed silver on my fingers.

It took me 3 attempts to quit smoking, and that.

Only happened because.

I was on a 72-hour hold.

Good to know my breakdown had a positive impact.

On my physical health.

The vaping helped.

Guess I’ve got something to think about.

Whether or not I still need it.

The stitches in the roof of my mouth are driving me crazy.

Doc Sugarman said they’d come out on their own in 3-5 days.

I wish they’d dissolve already.

Can’t help but feel them against my tongue.

Trying desperately not to grate across them.

It’s like dealing with an itch you can’t scratch.

One of ’em just came out.

Feels soooooo much better.

A bit hyperbolic.

But I definitely feel. Puffy.

Fifty-four years in this skin suit, it expects teeth to keep it from sagging.

Not that I’m sagging.

But it feels.

Puffy.

So I’m bringing the laptop with me this weekend.

Turns out I can’t stand the idea of a period of time without writing.

Whether it’s a play or a blog post.

Naturally, the damned thing hasn’t run serious updates since March and is gonna take half the night to refresh.

At least I can tether it to the ethernet. The damned wifi is so slow for it.

Why do I always seem to attract the wrong machinery?

I do my research.

Clearly not well enough.

No surprise then, I can be quite clueless sometimes, when it comes to other matters.

Can’t read people so easily.

Subtext, while crucial in any story, eludes me in real life.

Steve Martin, when he did stand-up, had a joke.

Because it was impossible to meet single women, he suggested they have a particular object (I’ll spare you the details; it’d turn your stomach) attached to their shoes. You saw that, you knew how to approach her.

Same premise. Sometimes you’ve gotta hit me upside the head with what you want.

I want new teeth.

Thursday feels forever away.

I tried to eat a grilled cheese sandwich this morning.

You hear about people ‘gumming’ their food.

I’ve got first-hand knowledge of how it feels.

And I’m feeling anxious for this laptop to finish updating.

Because now that I know I wanna write while I’m cottaging (hey that’s an actual word), I need the laptop updated. I need to load the new version of Final Draft, copy over my short plays in case I want to edit.

To make a long story short.

My father-in-law would say that. I knew him for a short time, but I truly liked him. And whenever he told a story, which was (to me) often, Allan would eventually wrap it up with “to make a long story short…”.

They’re engraving that on his headstone.

There’s so much love there. Don’t you think?

I think I need dinner.

What’ll I gum tonight?