Creative and spiritual recovery is made ever so much more difficult by two cracked back teeth, one on the upper left and one on the lower left. It's impossible to do anything but pop codeine and pray in a half-assed sort of way for mercy.

Which is how I spent my evening yesterday.

Since I'm not an aesthetic or stoic or saint, I can't embrace suffering. I am anti-martyrdom, you see.

This morning, I am feeling somewhat better. I think all the Jack Daniels I swilled might have beaten the nerves into submission, because I'm not feeling the same level of ohmygod pain that I was yesterday.

I plan on visiting an emergency dental clinic tonight, I expect to have two new holes in my head by sometime around eight o'clock.

Oy.