Guess where I went today?
Twice a year I go to
be tortured my wonderful dentist.
I love, love, love, love, love him. (he gives me as much happy gas as I want! she doesn't let me actually pass out...)
It's her I hate!
Attila the Hygienist.
Who is rough. Who clicks her teeth. Who makes me bleed. Who smears crappy stuff from my mouth onto my glasses when she sprays rinse water and doesn't aim the sucker-up-thingey just right. Who made me watch ESPN today!
Good news: no cavities!
(cookie for me!...no, no evil side of Dee...remember, the Force with you it is!)
Bad news: Attila still works for my dentist and still gets me every visit. I've asked to have a different lady
gauge, rake, poke, scrape to clean my teeth...but what we have there must be a failure to communicate.
They did offer me popcorn when I left.
(cookie for me!...no, no......)
Master Yoda decided to not only guard the cookies, but the cookie jar...he is.
So, Yoda...found this little treat and thought it looked like you an awful lot it did!
And...ate it I did!
really, it was a snickerdoodle from Subway...don't tell!
As I was on my way home, an old friend was pulling out of her driveway and I stopped to say "hi".
Schmuck that I am, I haven't called her or talked to her since this fall.
I asked what she was doing home since she teaches school.
She said she didn't feel that great and was on her way to a lunch date with a good friend.
I said "So, you kinda taking a personal sick day?" with a laugh in my voice.
She has breast cancer and needed some down time and time with a friend.
I am such a schmuck.
I told hubby I was a $#!% weasel the other night because of what a bad mommy I know I sometimes am.
and yes, sometimes is a bit of a downplay, just ask them...I've raised them to be honest at least!
Today, I'm an ever bigger $#!% weasel.
Because I didn't call.
I didn't drop by her house.
I didn't send her a Christmas card.
I didn't intuitively know this once "close as a freckle" friend was sick.
Pray for her, please.
Pray for me, please.
I apologize for the schizophrenic post. In case you haven't caught on, I use humor to help get me through difficult times.
You should have heard me when Mom (love you!) was going through chemo and they told her she couldn't take a bath. She (and through genetics, I) is a bath person. She was missing her soak and really wanted to take a bath.
So I gave her permission to take one and asked her "What's it going to do, kill you?"
It's a good thing my mom knows me, loves me (I think) and has the same sense of humor!
Where do rats come in after all this and if you're still reading...bless you!
I've screwed up my inspirational wall hanging...and it's only day two of working on it!
But, I shall persevere...