Painting Black: Swimming in space

Swimming in space

Another wisdom tooth trying to burst open from my gum. When can a 27-year old adult stop growing teeth? I hate the feeling of not being able to laugh out loud and open my mouth big enough for a spoonful of food. My right cheek now feels heavier than the other. I feel miserable.

Make that miserable and slothful. Team practically is hibernating. Maybe I’m not really used to having long-ER periods of idleness. It’s welcoming at first, but not doing anything for days on end is a curse most of the time. After subscribing to a couple of online writers group, I forced myself to revisit Emily Bronte. Ayns lent me Wuthering Heights eons ago but it only collected dust in the darkest corner of my room. I’m not really sure if an online version will do any difference. But I have started, and chapter VIII isn’t at all bad. So I guess, I’ll finally find out the goings on between the Lintons and the Earnshaws, and Heathcliff and Lockwood.

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