Exurb1a Goes to the Dentist (and thanks)

 Hello chickens.   

 You aight? You looking aight.   

 Another month, another expedition into the fruitless abyss of adulthood. Nah I'm just joking, it's been a lovely month. Some of you seemed to resonate with the introvert video, others were put off by it and I totally sympathise with the second camp. It was a bit “ooooh what special snowflakes quiet people are” etc. I made it as a little nod to introversion, that was all. It just got out of hand. While I am able to hold a conversation and occasionally even leave the house, I'm an introvert at heart myself and I suspect there'd be quite a few more of you out there. I'm glad to see I was not wrong. However. Being an introvert doesn't in any way presuppose awkwardness or weirdness. I just hammed it up for comedic effect. I hope we're cool now.   

  Hey, want to hear a fun story?   

  I've had a painful wisdom tooth for years now. It gets infected, gives me grief. I ignored it because there's no way a Brit is going to the dentist after 5 years avoiding it. My friend noticed my face was swollen one day and booked the appointment for me anyway. We turn up to the appointment and gosh was I excited about it.   

  Now, normally in the UK the dentist would give you a fairly extensive rundown of tools he's going to use, how much X and X will hurt, and what to expect in general. In Bulgaria – or in THIS particular dentist's office – he took one look at me, said “wisdom tooth?” I nodded. He pointed to the big mechanical chair. “Okay,” he said. “Let's go.” I attempted not to soil myself.

  Disclaimer: I know lots of people who have had almost completely painless wisdom tooth extractions. The majority in fact. Mine is just an abnormally awful experience that I'm telling you to maybe fuck up your day a bit. If you're worried about having your wisdom tooth out, don't – because it will probably be fine.

  What ensued for me however was unrelenting horror for the next hour or so. He wiggled it he wedged it, he grabbed it with pliers. (I mean the tooth you pervert.) Nothing. He drilled some more into the bone and my mouth began to resemble the aftermath of warzone heart surgery. He began swearing in Bulgarian as the frustration built. FOR FUCK'S SAKE. FUCK HIS MOTHER. 'His' being the tooth's mother of course. On and on like this. Anaesthetic kills the pain in the tooth, but when your tooth is connected to your jaw, which it generally is, your jaw begins to feel as though it's going to snap.    

  RELAX he would yell in Bulgarian. MY GOD, JUST RELAX.   

  I tried to.

  Some time into the ordeal he got the thing out and we both cheered a bit and I quietly thanked any gods who might be listening. I wouldn't do it again for all the grilled meat in Serbia.
 He called my friend into the room when it was all over. She speaks Bulgarian of course, and he showed her the tooth and just shook his head and muttered, “Despicable.” Which it was. The roots were strange and higgledy, and far too large for the tooth itself. No wonder it was such a shit to get out.   

  In the following days I have become something of a fan of a painkiller called Diclofenac. From agony to relatively normal living again in just under half an hour with a mere 150mg. And that got me thinking: how, exactly, do painkillers work? They numb the pain and reduce swelling, but don't reduce feeling overall. How the hell do they know what pain is what isn't? It also got me thinking: Shit, I now see how people get addicted to medication.   

  Anyway.
 About to hand the new book over to a proofreader when I find the right one. Hint hint: If you know any good proofreaders, preferably professionals, feel free to drop exurb1achannel@gmail.com a line.   

  Just between you Patreon lot and me, the next video is set to be all the possible human futures we might saddle ourselves with – utopias and dystopias. There may also be a bit of singing and shouting, but I can't promise.   

  I won't pretend I'm not excited to get the book out to you. It has been a curse and a point of obsession for months now and the fact that it's almost alive is pretty intoxicating. I hope you'll bear with me for the final push.

  As ever, and ever, and ever, I wouldn't be doing this stuff without you lot. The next item on today's to-do list is attack my inbox and get back to you all. I'm going to give it a jolly good go in any case. Insults incoming. And as ever, as ever, as ever, I'm just generally awash with all the gratitude in the world for your ultimately misguided but extremely lovely support.   

  Ah! - before we wrap this up, some recommendations.   
 Firstly – if you're looking for a book, try out The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera. I read it as a teen, sort of got it, then read it again a few weeks ago and it blew my tits off. I reckon you'll enjoy it too. I won't spoil anything, but safe to say it's one of those books that just perfectly understands how shitty humans are and forgives us for it.   
 Stellaris is a game I don't recommend getting, but warn that if you do, you won't really want to do much else with your life for a while. Because it's ace.
 Particle Fever is an excellent documentary on Netflix about CERN and the Large Hadron Collider which I thoroughly enjoyed. I suspect you will too.
 The Particle at the End of the Universe is a book I read recently by one of my favourite physicists, Sean Carroll. The Audible version is ace for easy-listening.   
 And finally: Changing of the Seasons is a fucking marvellous album by Ane Brun, someone I've been pretty besotted with for a while now. This is my favourite of her stuff. She's Norwegian. So that's nice isn't it.   

  Much tortoise love on all fronts. If I haven't been in touch properly, I will be shortly – I have only tardiness and disorganisation to blame. Hope you're all well, and if you're not, hope you're at least listening to decent music and eating posh biscuits,

  All my best,

  Ex.