oh! the topography of it all!

you know those dixon-ticonderoga pencils that we used to love as school children, but every now and then the green or red eraser would fall out (sometimes they bizarrely seemed to dry up and therefore fall out) and all you'd be left with at the end of the pencil was that circular copper eraser holder? imagine someone took that empty copper holder and tried to bore a hole into the roof of your mouth with it.

then pretend someone took a very thin tiny splinter of wood and pushed into the tip of your tongue so that you were always conscious of the tip of your tongue when you talked or ate or had a cup of tea. another way to describe that feeling is that there are small poppy seeds stuck into your tongues crevices and no matter what, you cannot dislodge them. you want nothing more than to squeeze out those foreign bodies. relief would be so sweet, you might cry on its account.

that is how i feel this day. this entire week. it is making eating not just a dreaded necessity but a painful one. i mistakenly had some hummus at lunch. the searing, pulsating sensation made me stamp my feet in time with my heartbeat. last night i thought some mexican chicken soup was in order. oh, how i cursed the heavens for my stupidity! henceforth apple sauce and my own chicken soup will be my steady diet.

i have a geographic tongue. it is a benign medical condition which makes your tongue seem planar (you can read about it). when combined with illness, it's like the topography of mars or the moon from a distance with peaks and valleys and whites and pinks and reds and rivers and oh! woe! it makes me not want to open my mouth at all in case i scare young children or adults i try to seduce.

this is how i feel this week. and that is merely the physical side of things.