That's it. I'm hungry.

It's been more than a half a week since my oral surgery and I still can't eat solid food. I was prepared for the pain, I was prepared for the swelling, I was prepared for eventually dealing with stitches coming out... but no one told me I wouldn't be able to eat solid food by the end of the weekend. And frankly, I'm surprised. I bounce back fast my injuries.

Two years ago on my first day in Caracas, Venezuela, I slit my left hand open between my pinkie and ring fingers on a broken tequila glass (which, truth be told, I probably broke and kept dancing with). At 5am I was stitched up with thick black wire, wrapped up in gauze, and (still drunk) ushered out of the emergency room by my Venezuelan girlfriend. I think we went to eat arepas afterwards instead of going home. Judging by the amount of time we spent partying during my visit, I don't remember my hand injury derailing any fun.

Two days ago I managed a carnitas taco. Yesterday, a piece of juicy quesadilla and a quarter of a burrito. Then I accepted my bruised jaw for what it was, stopped forcing my teeth to touch, and returned to my diet of canned french onion soup with soggy croutons. Joy of all joys.

I'm so hungry. Surrounded by marinated steaks, magnificently crispy toast, and freshly baked cupcakes, I've had about enough. Teeth, give me back my life!