Monday, 12 March 2012

Don't Say It.

Soz*. It's been almost a week since my last post but I have an excuse- my life is falling apart at the seams.

Ok, so that was a tad dramatic, but I'm having one of those half-empty weeks. (It doesn't help that the glass in question happens to be half-emptied of gin and tonic, my preferred drink now that anything too sugary makes my Crumbled Tooth ache like someone has just driven a hammer into my jaw; alcohol is all fun and games when you're bouncing around doing silly accents and chasing waiters with spoonfuls of chocolate mousse, but by Jupiter it can make you grey and gloomy in the hungover days that follow.)

I can only focus on the Shit Things which actually, aren't even that shit. But I've taken myself to one side and said to myself in a stern voice: 'Come on now! You don't have any real problems, you whingey bitch!' and all it did was make me feel worse... On top of having fucked up teeth, not being able to speak French, having no Life Plans and no money, I now have to constantly chastise myself for being a whingey bitch with no real problems. It's Guilt Depression- feeling depressed because you're so guilty that you're depressed....

(By the way, when I say 'depressed' I don't mean in the medical way. A better description would be: 'mildly blue'.)

Still. It could be worse, I could be feeling 'mildly blue' because I live in a slum and have a life expectancy of thirty five...

And suddenly I'm not bothered about my shitty little 'problems' anymore!

Fucking hell. Close your eyes, give thanks. Be grateful to the universe, to God, or the gods, to fairies or just be grateful if you don't believe in anything. (Although, if you really don't believe in anything, I would urge you to read my scientifically sound arguement for the existence of mermaids.)

So, what have I been up to, I hear you crying out impatiently, literally jumping up and down in your seat, on tenterhooks to find out what Left Bank Manc has been busying herself with in her absence. Well, on Wednesday I got home from work and napped for four hours, then woke up feeling regretful and lethargic. That is the most exciting thing that has happened to me since my last post.

I've been working too much!

Ooh I went on a language exchange on Tuesday afternoon, does that count as making a bit of effort with the language? One of the other Drama Teachers put me in contact with a lovely boy called Willie. (I know, I know. It made me smirk a little bit too.) As a French person might say, or more accurately, an English person who has lived in France for too long might say- we passed a good afternoon together and I think we're going to meet up every Tuesday afternoon.

We spoke mostly in French. At one point I asked Willie if there is a short word in French for 'sunset', because in French you say 'coucher du soleil' but I was hoping there'd be a prettier, more colloquial way of putting it. He couldn't think of the word so he stopped random people in the street and asked them. I like people who stop randomers in the street to ask them if they know another word for sunset.

Now, I know what you might be wondering, because I was wondering it at first as well. 'What will he look like?' I kept asking myself. Well, I don't care so much about what he looks like, because I'm pretty sure he's only interested in boys, so no chance of you know what-

Six hours later.

I had to dash off before because Kayt took me to the dentist. (But hold that thought about you know what, I have much more to say on that subject later.)

So.

My Crumbled Tooth has finally starting to hurt, after months of me saying 'I'll deal with it when it starts hurting.' I really should have got it seen to in England but I just couldn't be arsed. My mum said 'Get it sorted before you need a root canal!' and I said 'I will, I will. It doesn't hurt yet.' The very next day it started KILLING ME but by then it was the weekend and I was flying back to Paris on Monday afternoon. Ho hum, we live and learn. I say that phrase A LOT which just proves that we don't live and learn, otherwise I would have only said it the once and then never Fucked Up again. And I have Fucked Up with this tooth business. Quite spectacularly.

Sooooo many people kept warning me to get it seen to before I needed a root canal and lo and behold, I went to the dentist this afternoon and it transpires that I need... you guessed it... a root canal.

First of all the dentist said they might be able to give me a filling. She did an X-ray and said it was very close to the nerve, maybe too close. She made the hole bigger (don't ask me why, that is the mystery of Medical Folk and that is why I don't trust them) and told me to tell her if it hurt. So when it hurt, I made little hurty noises and now I'm worried I should have kept my mouth shut, because she said the fact it was hurting me means the nerve is swollen and it's too late for a filling. Root canal for me then.

I might have started crying just the tiniest bit. Oh God, I'm so scared. I'm really, really scared. She's going to pull my nerve out. It will be take ages and there'll be loads of pointy sharp things in my mouth and I have to pay 130 euros for the privilege. I could apply for a social security number, because my restaurant job is declared and all Above Board, and then I might be able to claim some of the expenses back, but I don't know... I'd have to find out what forms to fill in, get the forms somehow, fill them in, send them off, wait for a couple of months... Even if it did work (such things never go to plan, ever), getting a French social security number would be so Productive and Dynamic of me; the next thing you know I'll be tidying my room and applying for jobs for next year. Might as well rip off a piece of my soul and give it to a Rottweiler to chew on.

Oh fuck. Why do I do these things? Don't say I told you so, just don't.

I'm in quite an emotional state. Just cried a little bit at Summer Heights High, where Jonah gets expelled from school and he goes and sits back in the Gumtree Centre with his favourite teacher and then he gets dragged out kicking and screaming...

Get a grip. Get a grip.

On the bright side, it's a beautiful sunny day outside. I think I'll draw my blinds and have a quick nap.



*I'm only saying 'soz' because I'm not really sorry! Sorry.**
**I am actually sorry for not being sorry. Sorry.***
***I just said it a third time for emphasis. Sorry!****
****The word has now lost all meaning.

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