I think I'm back. I have the jaw wired shut and a bunch of rubber inside to keep the jaw in place while it heals. Feels weird, but sounds about right. Taking antibiotics to keep the infections at bay, have a nice big medicine bottle full of something called Hydrocodone in case of stress or the onset of headache. Or gunshot wounds. Haven't had need of it, but its nice to sip a bit before bed. Relieves the little aches and pains, slips you right into the night. Or morning.

The jaw is sore, but doesn't hurt. It's more like I'm holding a ball of rubber bands about golf ball size or bigger between my teeth. An "euwww!" kind of squinting expression, but, what the hell, doable. In this business of getting the plumbing fixed, this is just first rung. You recover. You go on. You sleep better. Right?

I made a deal with myself around the end of 1997 to get my "snoring" fixed. That "deal", I'm sure, carried some baggage with it. What do you mean you're going to get your "snoring" fixed? Your partner think it's too loud? If you had a partner, would she think it was too loud? Maybe I was thinking of more than just the sleep fix or the career fix or the photography fix or the whatever fix. Maybe this was a bigger fix than I readily admitted.

Cause there's gots ta be something worth doing this for. It's not something you do over the weekend on your Visa card, although I discover they all take your Visa card. They like your Visa card. Surgeons know about the Visa card. Gives them confidence. Like a morning nap.

I detect a certain wandering of style. I'm going to have to drive down to Palo Alto tomorrow to see my doctor of rubber mouth medicine and I'm assuming I'm up for the ride. Have to put gas in the car which means I have to get some money at the ATM which means I have to get up out of bed and get dressed. Which I think I can arrange. Tomorrow. After some sleep.