These things happen

So it's Wednesday morning. This morning I discovered that it isn't getting up in the morning that pisses me off, it's the reason why I am getting up. My alarm goes off the same time every morning. Normally it goes off, I shout obscenities at it, and eventually get up. This morning it went off, I knew that I had to go to the hospital and not to class, and I had no problem with getting out of bed. Maybe I should do something different every day for the rest of my life...

But yeah. I had to go to the hospital so they could look at my jaw some more and compare it to my x-rays from Friday night and make sure it's straight. Which, of course, it isn't -- but it wasn't straight to begin with. My bottom teeth overlap the top, and they don't even meet in the middle. Maybe next time I have to go and have it looked at I will ask them what it would take to put it right -- but I think the answer is going to be major surgery on my face, which ain't gonna happen.

Looking in the mirror this morning and I could almost convince myself that I have just been staying awake too late and that's why I have dark rings under my eyes. But I'm not quite there yet -- you can still pretty much tell I had the crap beaten out of me.

My head still hurts more or less all over. And I hate it when the doctor asks where it hurts, I say right here, and here, and here, so she feels the need to press those places. Fuck. Yes. Yes, that is exactly where I told you it hurts. Stop doing that.

I'm still not allowed to eat anything much harder than mashed potato. I've been pushing my luck by trying other things -- like fish, and chocolate, though not together -- but gingerbread is probably just asking for trouble. Still, I expect by this time next week all the bruising and cuts will be gone. I don't know how much longer I will have to stay on mushy food, but maybe if I concentrate really hard I can will the fracture in my jaw to heal over.

I don't know how much longer it will be before I stop being so jumpy. I don't like being outside my flat, even here in the library I get uneasy every time that someone walks in. I won't begin to talk about the fear of walking home at night after class or you most likely lose all respect for me entirely.

The funny thing about it all is that I don't really feel the least bit angry about it and I don't know why. I'd far rather that it had never happened than get any sort of revenge on my attackers.