Stream of Unconsciousness

Well, maybe not totally unconscious, but a little bit brain dead.

You know. That foggy feeling that comes from a loooong day with junior high kids, followed by a trip to the dentist?

Before I get started, though, I’d like to preface this by saying my writing may be even more imperfect than usual if the response I wrote a little while ago is any indication…Until it was recommended and I reread what I wrote, it was a total jumble that made no sense at all.

But, I’m going to risk it.

I am a recovered dentist-phobe. There, I’ve said it. I had an awful experience at 16, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t force myself to go back until I discovered a loose tooth in my mid-forties (which in hindsight is pretty gross, but it is what it is). Thank God it was in front, or I bet I’d still be avoiding it.

Though my gums were a mess, my teeth were in pretty good shape, no cavities.

And, now going is no big deal. I love my dentist, and since we get to spend quality time together every three months, my hygienist and I are buddies.

Well, maybe not buddies, but we trade gardening stories and pictures of our grandchildren.

Anyway, since I hit fifty, stuff has been cropping up. Just a cavity here and there, and one root canal, but still.

Even though the dental work no longer freaks me out, it always makes my day when I make it through an exam and cleaning without finding anything new.

I made it two years this time.

I’ve got a tiny cavity, and one spot that will turn into one if I’m not anal about flossing.

Fortunately, they said the fun could wait until my next visit in February.

After a tiny bit of internal grumbling, I did what I always do, and reminded myself it could be worse. First, I am anal about flossing. Second, though I don’t have dental insurance, I’ve got enough in my HSA. Third, I’m 54, and after all that neglect, I’m lucky as hell to still have teeth.

But, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy to head home.

Which is why, when my husband invited me to go to a show with him and a few friends, I happily declined.

Thanks, but no thanks.

Apparently I’d rather vacuum, as that’s what I did from the time they left until I realized how amusing it was that I was perfectly happy to be vacuuming on a Friday night.

And apparently I felt it necessary to share it with the Medium world, because here I am.

How are you spending YOUR Friday night?