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post #297
bio: stu

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Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass
There is of course no way to quantify or measure the mood swings caused by pain and injury (but if there were, the device for measuring it would have to be called the Phineas Gauge*). Still, it is one of life's many cruelties that people suffering from chronic pain--who you really should visit as much as possible--aren't a whole heap of fun, when you come right down to it.
* Yes, this whole post is so I could make that joke, and yes, I realize it is terrible.

Yesterday was our three-quartersversary** for my girlfriend and I, and she and I were trying to decide whether to go to the restaurant that was 26th on the list of 50 best restaurants in the world, or merely go to another restaurant by the same owner/chef. This is pretty much the definition of a First World Problem: which trendy restaurant should I go to?
** I have real problems calling something my "nine month" anniversary since the word "anniversary" explicitly means "year"--it's right there in the word, at "anni-", and I am a flaming pedant.

We decided on the Merely Another Restaurant By the Same Owner/Chef, for me primarily because the seats are marginally more comfortable than the tall stools at 26th Out of 50--my knees have been giving me problems recently, in a way that's probably chronic disease related. So I've been limping and in pain for the last week or so anytime I walk anywhere or need to stand much.

Whereas in the hospital bed, pain mostly made me sad and tired, now that I'm mobile, pain just tends to make me instantly irritable. It has produced some profoundly quick mood swings while we're out and about. While sitting at dinner, I am my charming and effervescent self (as much as it is possible to be at a trendy restaurant filled with monied douchebags--which, I suppose is also a First World Problem: Oh no, my trendy restaurant is filled with douchebags!), but the moment we start walking back into the subway, I turn into one of those characters played by Jack Nicholson in the late 70s and early 80s: a snarling inarticulate personification of petulance.

It is not a particularly good way to spend your anniversary***.
***  Sic.

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