A long weekend of no work and whatnot should have allowed me to feel quite restful by the end of it.  Unfortunately, I’ve been sick, so all sleep has done is allowed me the opportunity to toss restlessly for a few hours at a time.

All the same, the long weekend was enjoyable.  My kids hated leaving me this morning almost as much as I did as I dropped them off at daycare.  We had a lot of fun, the four of us.

However, as I sat down at my computer, ready to start the day and catch up on everything I had ignored for the previous 4 days, a notification popped up from my calendar telling me I had a dentist appointment in 8 minutes. . . I still hadn’t showered, not to mention brushing the teeth and whatnot.


Anyways, rushed to the dentist’s office, mentally apologized to the hygienist about the halitosis I had yet to take care of that morning, and settled in for an hour of holding my mouth open and attempting to keep any of the stinky air from escaping there.

As I sat there, I began pondering, as I often do, the occupation of dental hygienist.  I mean, I have a hard time believing that anyone would have any real romantic interest in me after getting a good peek within my mouth (not that I’m looking, mind you).  I mean, I’m a cavity-free kind of guy, but as they scrape away all the crap that has accumulated over the last 6 months, I can’t help but picture the most disgusting junk littered all over my teeth.

And where does one look when you are being given an oral exam where it is impossible to talk? I mean, you don’t want to stare at the person who’s elbow deep in your mouth cavity. . . the light they have shining in your face is too bright, and gives a faint reflection of the action going on in your mouth.

I find myself staring at ceiling tiles.

This is all while contemplating what thoughts must be going through the head of whomever it is they’ve got scrubbing my molars that day.  I mean seriously. . . what could they be thinking about?  Hopefully not lunch, as they probably saw enough of my lunches from the last 6 months still around on me.

Who knows?


What I do know is that after I get done with my cleaning, I always sit up as though waking from the world’s worst nap.  I’m still trying to recover.

Anyways, tons of crap to do, and I’m starving.

Have a good one.


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