warts and all

I have thoughts rolling around in my head. But they are too close to me to reveal in this forum. Perhaps with a little time and distance, or perhaps when I get really worked up on the subject, but not right now.

A thought held back, holds so much more power than those released. It consumes. It fills the cracks and crannies of the mind allowing little else in. Partial thoughts squeeze through here and there. But they can't take root. They can't develop or produce fruit.

And that is where I feel like I am. I sit here, feeling as if I have volumes to share. And all I have is the boring details of life. The migraines of late have been bad, real bad. The massage therapist said my muscles felt more akin to bone than supple, healthy muscle. She said I needed to sleep more, get my eyes checked out, watch my posture when lifting weights, and mostly to stop using the computer so much.

I got a new pill from the doctor. We'll see if this one will help with the migraines--and the nausea that's been accompanying them. He also cut a hole in the bottom of my foot. A shallow plantar wart is now a gaping red crater of hurt. It'd be really cool and worth taking a picture of if looking at it didn't make me so light headed.

I got my teeth cleaned today. I confessed that I was not as good at flossing as I should be. The tech actually said that she couldn't believe that because my teeth had very little tartar. She really shouldn't be encouraging my floss avoidance. One thing I am, though, is a dedicated brusher. So, of course, I have little tartar, but I do have a cavity.

I was one of those kids who was glad to lose her baby teeth because they were all silver. I think I had a filling in every molar. I brush and brush, but every year or so, a new one emerges or an old one comes out of hibernation.

And one of my inlays is chipped. (For those of you not in the know and inlay or an onlay is the stopgap between a filling and a crown.) The plus is that I'm only four teeth cleanings away from a free Sonicare toothbrush. There's something to look forward to in two years...

LOST starts back up again tomorrow. People will probably come over. My roomie wants to make taco salad. We sat and looked around our apartment. Christmas boxes still sit on the dining room table. the coffee table is littered with dirty cups, plates, bowls and spoons. Packing material from a lamp that I had to exchange still lays on the floor. The new lamp sits unpacked in a tall white box that my roomie's put her purse on. I don't even want to think about the kitchen...

That said, I hope people come by tomorrow night. I haven't sent out an invite. Still, I hope they come.

I can feel the nothing, the hole, the space where there used to be a chunk of me--and, of course, a wart.