insomnia and the taste of blood

so. Here i have arrived in the final stages of preparation. i got my wisdom teeth out today... as long as this goes well and heals without major complication, i'll be handing in my resignation at work next week.
This was my first surgical procedure... my first IV, sedation, tooth pulling... what a day!

i've heard of a condition called "dry socket" which is essentially when the blood clot that forms in the hole (aka socket) where the tooth was somehow becomes dislodged. apparently it's extremely painful. so needless to say i'm appropriately paranoid about the healing. i've had the taste of blood in my mouth for about 17 hours now, and i must say i would not make a very good vampire. i'm sick of it already!
i'm nervous. less nervous and crazy (like on the weekend, my last post) and more nervous and keeping my fingers crossed in anticipation.

sleep evades me tonight. i must write a strongly worded letter to the creators of tylenol-3. it should be ashamed to call itself a narcotic - i feel like i just chugged an espresso.

mind you, it's my brain again. racing like it's got somewhere to be and it's running late. the idealist part of me imagines a life happily ever after in BC, watching slow but steady progress in my climbing ability, and a job i love that suits my lifestyle (money to cover gear and rent... maybe food). i read recently in an interview: "inside every cynic is a dissapointed idealist". I really identified with that comment, since i'm slowly coming out of my self-imposed introverted stage of life. some people who didn't know me that well, or at all, described me as a cynic. well pardon me for not instantly believing everything i hear! i wish i could live forever in good health - climbing 5.14 by the time i'm 207 years old... then I'd be set! but things don't work that way, life is unpredictable and we're extremely fragile beings.

i've kept a journal since i learned how to write. it started off as a way to use my favourite coloured pencils (or pencil-crayons as they say here in ontario) and then developed into the quest to find what boy's initials suited my initals the best, and if we were destined for True Love Forever! That period of time gave way to darkly dramatic teenage thoughts, a bit of a hiatus, and then once i started climbing... my journal entries my first trip to potrero were all trying to calculate how soon i could quit my job and move there. i've taken the slow road... about 4 years of preparation, and part of me, a big part of me, feels like maybe this is some sort of joke? my journal(s) certainly would. "oh here's another entry about quitting her job. as if!"

well, journal, we'll see about that! i'm really going to do it this time!