By last count, I had been six of the seven dwarfs since the first of the year.
It’s not the time of year, really it’s not. I don’t have Seasonal Affective Disorder. In fact, I wanted to get back into the swing of things more than anyone following the holidays. And, like I said a couple of weeks ago, I was thrilled to bid farewell to the great train wreck that was 2016.
This crazy weather kerfuffle certainly hasn’t made things any better. The temperature went from feels-like-3 to 73 in the course of about four days. If it doesn’t straighten up soon, I will have to mow the yard before Valentine’s day.
I also hated to hear the news that the Greatest Show on Earth is shutting down. I have some good memories of us taking Grant to the Ringling Brothers Circus a couple of times when he was very young. I guess I thought we might go again someday.
This is a stressful time of year for us self-employed people. This is when we have the unpleasant task of getting the bookkeeping stuff in good enough shape to send to the accountant.
This doesn’t come easy for me. I mean, how am I supposed to remember what this 89-cent dollar store receipt from March was for?
You would be appalled at some of the things I call office supplies.
I suppose all those things and a few more have been dragging me down, but my biggest issue, however, started back in the middle of December.
One of my crowns came loose.
This is a squeamish subject for me, so don’t worry, I’m not going to subject you to any details.
Since this has happened before, I knew the visit to get it reattached would be short and easy. Well, I was pretty sure it would be short and easy, but nothing in life is certain.
I remained in denial until it got close enough to Christmas that I had a decent reason to put it off until after Santa came.
The week between Christmas and New Year’s is no time to go to the dentist either, so I continued to chew on my right side.
The next time you sit down to eat, make a conscious effort to chew on the opposite side from the one you normally use.
On Tuesday, Jan. 3, I finally called to make an appointment.
I now should take this time to salute all the brave men and women who work at the dentist’s office, especially the ones who answer the phone and must ask questions such as, “Is it all the way off or just loose?”
In order to make sure they wouldn’t say “just come on in now,” I called at precisely 4:55 p.m. I knew I couldn’t go the next day because they were probably closed for National Spaghetti Day (look it up). Thursday wasn’t an option because there was snow in the forecast — for somewhere, I’m sure.
I really wanted to go on Friday, but (oh, no!) the dentist is closed on Fridays. Just my luck.
Monday? Yeah, right. I’m scheduling a dentist appointment for a Monday.
Tuesday was out, because Tuesday is just Monday with a day of experience.
In a conversation that resembled a hostage negotiation, we decided on the following Wednesday. So yes, when I finally decided to fix a problem I should’ve fixed a month ago, I made the appointment for 8 days in the future.
Naturally, he fixed it in about 30 seconds. It was glorious. The sky was bluer that day.
The next morning, it was loose again.
I wanted to see those blue skies again so badly, I only waited 4 days to call. When I did, I made the appointment for as soon as they could do it.
Hopefully, I won’t be that seventh dwarf anytime soon.