Today, I feel just like that sad little image looks.
I have a tooth dying. I have had so many of my teeth die on me, I know the feeling.
And of course, it would never die on an ordinary week day, when there might be a possibility of getting to my dentist for some relief.
No, my teeth have always managed to choose long weekends, or public holidays, so that I suffer maximum pain & discomfort- haha, to ludicrously understate it.
I will last out till later this week, or next, sometime. Then there will be all the gory detail of root canal, & emptying vast amounts of dollars from the bank account.
I am desperately trying to cling onto my remaining teeth. I have no joy from the false ones I do have, & wish to avoid having to get more.
I knew on Saturday morning there was going to be a dead tooth. I woke with paralysed chin, swollen. Told myself it was the facial nerve, which acts up since surgery on a parotid gland. But deep in my heart, I knew it wasn't.
Well, it would seem the rain is over. There are patches of blue, amid weaker lighter clouds. And yesterday, we discovered we have a leaking roof - again. This will be the fourth time we have had to have it repaired.
Compared to the damage others have sustained, we are lucky to get off so lightly. Two boring pictures of the wet damage on the ceiling, & there is another patch in the kitchen, which I have just discovered. But I will spare you that boring picture!
Somehow it fits in with the bleak feeling I seem to have.
I feel a sense of impending doom, some cold fist clenching my heart.
I am not sure.
I keep flashing back in my mind to a birthday party, when I sent my little son trotting off with his gift, for the birthday child, who lived a few doors up the road from our house, and was a little school friend, known by sight to us.
I just had this bad bad feeling about the day. GOM was off at work, as he seemed to always be, whenever there was a calamity, or catastrophe, or turmoil to be sorted.
About an hour after waving farewell to our son, he returned home, sobbing uncontrollably. He was so hysterical, I could not get a coherent word out of him. He just sobbed on, & nothing I did could seem to calm him down. He ran off to his room, & lay face down on his bed, his small body wracked with the sobs.
Eventually, I phoned the mother of the 'birthday boy'. She had no idea my son had even left the party- some hour or so later, which I found very disconcerting. She had no idea why my son might be upset. So sorry. I didnt really know the mother, & realised I certainly didnt want to, at this point.
Finally GOM rang to see how the party had gone. I put our son on the phone, & finally the sobbing subsided. Daddy had said the magic words that eventually calmed our son down. To this day I have no idea what had happened at that party, that had so upset our son. He was so upset that when the mother rang back to ask if he wanted his little bag of party favours, he shuddered & shouted NO!
I have this bad, bad feeling today.
I hope it is just my rotting tooth, & not more sh*t about to rain down on us!