Why does trouble always have to come in twos and threes?
As it is, I am in Recruitment
Which is itself a rollercoaster life
Through the peaks and troughs of Hell
For all my hard work
I get a few scant rewards
Which are like a few drops of water
In the mighty Pacific Ocean
And turn out to be as ephemeral
As the life of a mayfly
Just as I am dealing with all this
My wisdom teeth decide to crash the party in style
Bringing chaos and mass destruction
From all sides
The dentist takes one look at my mouth
And confirms my worst fears
The wretched wisdom teeth have to go
There is no escaping it
Moreover, it has to be a surgical extraction
Why does trouble always have to come in twos and threes?

On the D-Day
My head is spinning madly
My brain is on overdrive
And I find concentrating on work more difficult
Than even predicting the stock market
However, to my pleasant surprise
The surgeon is so calm and reassuring
And the process is so smooth
That is, apart from the pain induced by the anesthetic injection
That I get a feeling as if all my troubles have ended
However, I could not have been more wrong
After a few hours
The effects of the painkiller begin to wear off
Slowly, but surely
Eating food feels more awkward
Than a conversation between a boy and a girl
Who have just broken up
And to cap it all
Talking isn't exactly pain-free either
I might've enjoyed a bit of rest today
But come tomorrow, I need to get back to work
Which involves a truckload of calls
And as per the dentist
I shouldn't talk too much
However, as far as Recruitment is concerned
There is no such thing as "too much"
Why does trouble always have to come in twos and threes?