Lost, by Michael Davis – Straight No Chaser #270 | @MDWorld

May 25, 2012 Michael Davis 1 Comment

Last week I had some major dental work done. It started as a simple repair job when I broke a tooth while being an idiot. It turned into a; ‘Well since you’re here why not look at some other problem areas?’

It turns out that I had a few problems areas to look at.

I hate the Dentist more than anything except for one other thing-that one other thing is wasting time.

When it comes to the two things I hate most in the world, this past week has been the perfect storm.

My personal Hell started last week when I was out of town and had to stay away longer than I had planned.

I hate to travel. I hate being away from home. I feel out of sorts in the worst way when I’m not in a familiar environment like my home. I don’t go out just to go out, I rarely go to parties. I rarely go anywhere. I have everything I need or want right in my small neat home. I assumed when I got back home all would be right in the world.

It turns out that when I did get back home I needed some serious oral surgery. So after that serious oral surgery I was given some serious drugs to combat the serious pain and a possible serious infection.

Guess what?

The serious drugs I was given to combat both the serious pain and the serious possible infection did neither until the dosage was upped BIG TIME for both of the meds I was given.

So-this entire week I’ve been unable to do anything productive, because I’ve been in horrible pain and my mouth was infected causing my face to swell up like Bruce Banner. Then when my dosage was increased my pain went away but that made way for another set of problems such as, if I’m not sleeping off the side effects of the drugs I’m too dazed and confused to work.

I can’t even re-read what I’ve already written because the same passages seem to either be the most incredible stuff I’ve ever done or it’s the worst words ever put on paper.

An entire week wasted.

I’ve made no progress on any project.

I quite literally have gotten nothing done on any venture I have on my plate. For the workaholic anal bastard that I freely admit to being having a completely unproductive week such as this one should cause me irreparable mental and physical (banging my head against a wall) damage.

Guess what?

I’m not crazy (OK I’m not crazier) nor do I have a dent in my head from constant banging.

Every single cliché I’ve ever made fun of has come back to pimp slap my smart ass as well as what a zillion people have told me repeatedly.

I should stop and smell the roses.

All work and no play do make Motu a dull boy.

I really should not sweat the small stuff because it is all small stuff.

I do need a vacation.

I’m sure that the drugs I’m on are contributing to my new point of view regarding my wasted week I’m also sure I will use that as an excuse when dismissing this article after slipping back into my old habit of work, work, work.

I hope when I’m sober and my face does not look like a mutant basketball from all the swelling I continue to stop every so often and smell the roses. If I don’t I’m sure that one or more of my wonderful friends will take a moment to remind me that I should slow down. At least for the moment.

Lastly-Vicodin is the greatest thing ever invented.

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