“Remoted” Day 347 (Friday)

Hangry is a real thing. Very, very real. That state of being crankier than your usual self when you’re hungry has been the state of being for most of the time since after last Saturday’s dental appointment. I have new respect for the contestants on Big Brother who got stuck eating slop. Of course, the difference is, they signed up for the gig, aware of the possibility they might end up eating mush, and all I did was get my teeth checked and cleaned.

Had I known that last Friday’s supper would be my last solid food for a solid week, trust me, it would not have been a $3 Tony’s Supreme frozen pizza. It would definitely have been a different meal. Better. Grander. Something accompanied by a nice, fresh, dense, chewy bread. Something that could be piled high or twirled around a fork. Perhaps followed by some caramels. Definitely not a cheap frozen boxed pizza.

More soup.

Today at 11:00, the bowl was still sitting on the counter with the unopened oatmeal packet in it. The monotony of a week of oatmeal breakfast must have numbed me to hunger. At lunchtime, it was more monotony with more of the same vegetable soup that has been in play since Monday. To try and jazz it up, some salsa plus some jarred queso was stirred in, and a dollop of sour cream after it was ladled into the bowl and the vegetables smashed with a fork. It gave it some kick and a creamy texture.  

Today was also the start of the new muscle relaxer for the jacked-up jaw. The previous prescription had me sleeping an hour after taking it, which meant I was skipping the morning dose, and taking the midday dose at 4:00 and then the third one before bed. Not knowing if the new script would also knock me out, I waited to take today’s first dose until late in the day. Good thing. This one doesn’t make me tired, but it makes me feel kind of loopy and spacey and like I should be wearing a gauze off-the-shoulder top and a long skirt with Doc Martens and dancing at a music festival. Instead, I’m on the couch in a wool blend sweater and corduroy pants, binge-watching Bewitched on Prime, and periodically checking the functional capability of my jaw. If only I could wiggle my nose like Samantha Stevens and fix it.

The new prescription seems to work. One tablet in, and I can open my mouth a bit more. Feeling like a space cadet might be a worthwhile tradeoff. The jaw is improved, but still not fully corrected. I can’t bite into a grinder or a Beyond Burger with bread, so supper was potato chips and ice cream. Sometimes it’s necessary to just deliver a big, fat "No!" to more vegetable soup, especially after just having eaten it for lunch and all week long. The necessity of it killed the enjoyment of it. Given free reign, I often eat the same thing for days, but the difference here is the perception of  choice.