The official story that will go in my memoir should I ever write one will discuss how I took a hoof to the face while saving a tiny tiny infant from a herd of stampeding unicorns. Very angry unicorns. Only the baby and I can see them.
The reality is that I suppose with a condition like fibromyalgia and a history of joint issues, it isn’t unusual for my body to mutiny. So dislocating my jaw isn’t overly off the wall. I’m just grateful I got in back in socket on my own. The urgent care gave me a muscle relaxer and sent me for X-rays. The tech running the x-rays was flabbergasted an MRI wasn’t ordered. My doctor will have to be the one to order that if I’m still in pain in a few days. I don’t have time for this bullshit though so I’ll be just fine.
And the fact I may never eat a bagel again is totally unrelated.
One weighs 6.6 pounds.
The other doesn’t even register on the scale.
One is the bringer of doom to spiders found in my bed.
The other could be carried around by the spiders in my bed.
Both are awesome.
I wasn’t expecting the package. When I opened my mail box and found the key to the community package box, I cursed our idiot mailman. He’s forever getting things wrong. So, I took out the key and opened the community box expecting to have to pay a neighbor a visit. I looked at who it was addressed to. Me. What? Then I saw the return address. Dawnie.