Week 14, 2026: Wordsmith wisdom
Last I left you, I had just undergone wisdom teeth surgery. It was my second time, extractions of the last side of my mouth. I have twenty-eight teeth now.
I had a cheese croissant and a pain au chocolat on the way to the hospital because they stressed that I needed to have a big meal ahead of my 9am surgery. After handing my ID to the receptionist, I ran to the bathroom to meticulously brush my teeth. While I am disorganized enough to have a late breakfast, I am not without etiquette.
This surgery was much smoother than my first. It helped that my teeth were sitting up straight this time. The whole affair lasted twenty-five minutes, from being injected with an anaesthetic to having a biohazard bag held up above my head containing my bloody teeth. When I asked for my teeth in a bag, the Syrian surgeon smiled and teasingly said are you going to make a necklace?
It’s so vulnerable to sit in that chair; knowing anything can happen, knowing you’ve just signed a paper accepting the possibility of nerve damage. The tremor that I got in my hands while I was in the chair didn’t go away until blood stopped pooling in my mouth and I was full of painkillers.
Highlights from my wisdom teeth recovery diet:
- The triple dip: Hummus, labneh, guacamole with Syrian olive oil all over (any Levantine one will do, I just had a Syrian at hand) (or that Tunisian one with the horse, I love that guy)
- Nice cream: With a generous sprinkling of cinnamon and vanilla powder
- Mashed potatoes and zucchini: 2:1 ratio, with a side of yogurt
I got into D&AD’s The Copy Book in my reading sprint. It’s a reference book collating copywriting advice from some of the best ad writers in the game. There’s so much gold in it from seasoned wordsmiths. Some of its humour sends me into long laughing fits.
Writing stand-up seems similar to ad-writing. One sentence too long, too obscure, too irrelevant, costs a laugh like it would a sale. I’ve been writing stand-up bits again, something that could work on an audience with a good understanding of Middle Eastern society and politics. It’s a fun writing exercise, even if it will go nowhere.
I reached out to a popular stand-up spot to inquire about their next live show. They said they had to cancel it for security reasons and there aren’t any more planned for the future. I saw that message, made several assumptions, took another look at my material and realized none of it would work.
April has brought back the pep in my step. I feel excited again. I spent March cooped up in my room, reading and writing more than I had in months but my muse was seclusion. On the first night of the month, a full moon appeared and a tiny stray kitten took a liking to me. I pet her for a bit and then carried her to where all the cats were having dinner.
Last night, my grandmother asked if I knew any jokes. I told her I would think of one. Later, I came up to her and told her that I had something. I recounted my time at the surgeon’s office: that when I asked for my extracted teeth, he smiled and teasingly said are you going to make a necklace?
I lifted my hand, revealing a necklace with one of my teeth wire-wrapped into a pendant and said, why not? She laughed heartily because she loves me.
My necklace is very pretty. I’ll be saving it for special occasions that remind me of our finiteness, like wakes and birthday parties.