My Left Thumb

The following post was written this summer, but my thumb still hurts.

Itzhak Perlman and I kicked off the weekend together this morning—he playing Saint-Saëns, I washing dishes. And suddenly, in a revelatory moment, I knew why my thumb had been hurting for the last few months: because it’s where I have rested every bloody thing we own—every champagne glass and ceramic platter and rustic basket and flute-playing angel and brass candlestick holder—as I cleaned it before either packing or selling it. Hundreds of items, large and small, heavy or light, have perched in the same spot on my left thumb and my thumb can’t take it anymore.

Barbara Kruger understands. (That’s her art above.) My previously small world has grown exponentially with every item that pops out of a drawer or stands in the shadows of a closet. It feels never-ending and has altered my identity. I have become The Dustbuster. And my poor thumb has suffered for it.

However, to improve my spirits, I started a new book. What better for a Dustbuster to read than Evelyn Waugh’s A Handful of Dust? It’s breezy, it’s funny, and it’s an altogether different world to escape to. (Of course, this isn’t the case if you’re part of the landed gentry.) It provides perfect relief from any kind of monotony that’s staked a claim on you.

And when I’m finished with it, I’m giving it away. I finally understand what mathematician Pál Erdös meant when he said, “Property is a nuisance.”

Throbs, Chills, Pills, and Bills

Had a couple of wisdom teeth pulled on Monday. Still recovering.

Funny thing: Neither my dental insurance nor my “medical” insurance covered the procedure. Yet the teeth were a source of pain, contributed to a bad bite, and prohibited me from enjoying nuts and other similar crunchy foods.

In all the talk about healthcare reform, this is one of the hot buttons for me. How about medical insurance that covers the entire body—including eyes and teeth and feet and mind? One policy covering one whole body—indivisible—with justice and well-being for all?

Gotta go. Time to apply another ice pack.

Unemployment Weighs Heavily on My . . .

Well, unemployment has weighed heavily on me both physically and psychologically for some time now.

But lately I've been waking up in the morning in pain: Every part of me aches. I don't even want to get out of bed.

At first I attributed it to skipping my exercise routine; then to excessive physical activity. But last night I finally figured it out: stress.

I wear my stress around my neck and in my shoulders, as many people do. But a few times over the years, it's escalated into an emergency trip to a massage therapist because my jaw locked up. On one such occasion, the massage wasn't enough. So I went to a dentist to see if I had some scary infection or other dental-related problem.

And that was when my teeth told their tale of nightly horrors: I was grinding and clenching them to the point that I had substantially changed my bite.

The dentist fitted me with a custom guard to prevent further damage and to shift my bite back into place. (By the way, my dental insurance plan saw this as a vanity procedure and wouldn't help pay for it.)

I've not worn the guard all the time, but I still have it. So I put it in last night before bedtime and Voila! This morning those aches and pains have vanished!

Of course, this doesn't mean the stress has vanished—only that it can't cause collateral damage.

Waking up with one problem solved is a great way to start a day. Now if I can just write the perfect cover letter to get that job . . .