Another day in the office. When I tell people I have had a major 5-hour operation to break both my jaws, they can't believe it.
I am in a slight quandary. It is a nice quandary in which to find myself, but a quandary nonetheless.
For years, I have attempted to use my hairstyle to mitigate the visual impact of my jawline. When I was a teenager, I attempted to divert attention from my chin my having 6-inch-long spiky hair, dyed beetroot red.
Since I have grown up/matured/aged, I have opted for a more discreet approach. My bottom was used to stick out 6mm to my left. To compensate for this, I wore my fringe to my right. This gave the impression that my head was merely tilted, rather than shaped like a hockey stick or a banana.
Now, however, my bottom jaw is 1mm to the right. Not noticeable, but my fringe is still designed for the old face-shape. Here is my quandary. My fringe is not yet long enough to be moved to the other side. Unfortunately, my sideburns have reached the length at which they go curly, so I need a haircut. My initial plan was to let my hair grow until the swelling had completely subsided, then go to somewhere like T&G to get an expert opinion on a new hairstyle to suit my new face, giving them enough hair to work with. But I'm not sure for how long I can tolerate these sideburns.
Another slight dilemma I have regards shaving. You know when babies sometimes get a rash around their mouths from dribbling? Well, I have such a rash. I guess shaving may aggravate it. But my beard has now reached the length where the 25% of my genes which originate from Ireland begin to express themselves. Patches of ginger are appearing in my beard. Not a great look for most people. Orange and black facial decorations are definitely not good for a West Bromwich Albion fan.
We went to a bar after work. To mark the occasion, the boss' boss sent a photo from last month. It was of me, and I can't believe how profound the transformation is.
One of the most frustrating things about life pre-Jaw-Breaking was think crust pizza. I simply could not eat it like a normal human being. If I tried to put it in my mouth and bite, the pizza would simply emerge from my mouth intact when I pulled it away. Even worse, was thicker pizza. The toppings would be stripped off and the pizza would disintegrate into my lap. Not good. This was because the only biting surfaces that I had week at the very back of my mouth. The front teeth did not meet at all, so the only way I could eat a slice of pizza wad to roll it up and shove it to the back of my throat.
You can probably guess what's coming next... This evening, for the first time in my life, I ate pizza as if I was a normal person with a fully-functioning mouth.
After that, I went back to my old uni1 to catch up with some mates. "You are recognisably you. But you look different. It's hard to say, but you just look better." was a common theme2.
I realised another benefit of being on the wagon: It made keeping my New Year's Resolution never to go to return to Saucy3 a hell of a lot easier.
Yesterday I left my wallet at home when I went to work. Today I left my flat keys on my desk at work when I left for the pub. Yet another advantage of being on the wagon is that I was able to retrieve my keys and go home: It is instant dismissal to set foot in my workplace having consumed even a drop of alcohol.
Today's menu:
Whole, unchopped banana for breakfast. I trust you can imagine what one of those looks like.
"Authentic" beef madras for lunch, with an onion bhaji. Having recently had a madras in Chennai (colonial name: Madras), I can testify that it was indeed authentic.
A couple of slices of pizza for tea, followed by some tandoori chicken nugget things in Wetherspoon's.
1. We refer to it as "School".
2. Apologies for the heinous grammar crime.
3. Saucy is the awful student night that I went to far too many times when I was a student. And once since.
