So many awesome, ambitious plans for the summer, derailed by my mouth. I keep trying to write, but the best I’ve been able to manage is reading. I’m working a billion more hours than I’d hoped to pay for the mouth. I’m in pretty much constant pain, even after the root canal. Wisdom tooth extraction scheduled for this week, but I can’t get the crown put on until I go back to Chicago–the wisdom teeth are in the way of the crown, and it takes a month for the crown to be made before they can place it. So it’s going to be another two months of this, with dental work overlapping the first weeks of school. I’m so frustrated and angry I keep bursting into tears. Thousands of dollars and so. Much. Time. My insurance only covers a few doctors in the entire state of AZ (at least I’m sort’ve covered; I shouldn’t complain…I could be uninsured), so best of all, I get to drive an hour and a half each way to my extraction appointment. And Rhin’s in town, and this was supposed to be our writing vacation for the novel, and now? Now she’s driving me to the oral surgeon, because that’s what friends do, apparently. I feel lame, and broke, and pretty well beaten down. Nevermind that school starts in three weeks, and I somehow need to finish a book (the impossible Giza) and a magazine for my editing job before I leave town. And revise my syllabus for composition. And read for the lit class I’m TAing. And my boyfriend is moving with me, and I was all set up to have money and emotional support saved up so I could be of some help to him, and…yeah. Life got in the way.