Yeah, anyway, and so, the molar that was cracked in a seizure last October, that has cost me five trips to the dentist in an effort to save it, seems finally to have gone Tunguska on me. Ungrateful fucking tooth. With luck, I can get in to see a dentist tomorrow, and probably they'll just pull the blasted thing out. I have no more patience for that tooth. Chewing is overrated, anyway. Yesterday was lost to a haze of pain and synthetic opiods, because Friday night, when the real fun (i.e., agony) began, I took a quarter of an Oxycodone, which interacted with all the other medication to make me a zombie until about 6 p.m. last night. Last night, I refused more of the Oxycodone, hoping to be able to write today, and that was dumb. I only managed to sleep in 15-30 minutes shifts. About dawn, I finally moved to the sofa so as not to keep Spooky awake. I may give in and take more Oxycodone (I ran out of Lortab), just so I can get some rest.
On Friday, before the serious tooth pain began, I wrote 1,502 words on The Red Tree, and so began Chapter Six.