I have spent today dreading 4:00 when I have a dentist appointment. I like my dentist, I really do, but still...he's a dentist. And I'm afraid I have to be a big girl and tell him that I have this tooth...this one right here...right where all the pain was a couple of months ago...and it isn't really sore. Not painful. But it's sensitive. Doesn't like it when I bite down on hard things. Doesn't like my electric toothbrush going over it. Not that it really hurts then, either. But it tingles somewhat ferociously. Sigh. I see dental work in my future.
Whimper.
When you've had a dentist in childhood who apparently didn't believe all that strongly in Novocaine and who would lie to you (or mislead you) about whether something was going to hurt and then would, after telling you he'd stop when it did hurt, keep drilling...well, even when you're all grown up it's somewhat hard to face even the nicest dentist with equanimity and aplomb.
What else am I doing? Well, reading The Private Patient and knitting, in a desultory sort of fashion on some mitts that Rachel is supposed to be making for a friend. I told her I'd show her how to work with two circulars...and she's either too engrossed in WoW or too sleepy...so I keep knitting on them. Which I certainly don't mind, though I don't want to snatch them out from under her nose, as it were.
I could get into being home every day. Alas, all my use-or-lose leave is used up tomorrow and on Friday I'll be back at work, with only occasional days off.
How long is it until I can retire?
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