I finally got down to getting another tooth extracted. It was long overdue (here is how long!) and was ignored because it was being good. But then it decided to revolt and I had to make that long and agonizing detour to the dentist… who, by the way, is different from the other guy but with an equally sadistic sense of humour!
Just how sadistic you ask eh? Picture this. You are scared to look at those shiny instruments she’s holding and advancing towards your mouth. So you look up at the ceiling, hoping to find some pale pink Nerolac, enough to lose yourself in. Or you imagine you are painting your next masterpiece on that smooth bit of brick and mortar. So whatever be your inspiration or desperation for looking up, you do it. And instead of your bit of canvas up there, you see polished tinted glass panels. Now if you can put two and two together and arrive at twenty-two, then you would realize that looking up would bless you with a vulture-swooping-down-on-its-prey view of what is going on in your mouth. And if you’re like me and getting your tooth extracted, then believe you me, it is ANYTHING but a pretty sight. Of course you might settle for that torture if I told you that the old dentist used to keep up a running commentary of exactly what he was up to!
So basically, I was dumb once again, much to the delight of the plebs at home, who do not value my pearls of wisdom. Oh whatever!
Like I was telling a friend this morning, so long as it does not offend my religious sensibilities or tilt my already delicate cosmic imbalance, it’s okay!