dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Friday, February 17, 2017

dentist time

Hey, gmorning, reader.  Yesterday I went to the dentist.  My friend G gave me a ride because M was busy with a medical appointment.  My tongue had felt a hole in my molar and I thought a filling fell out.

I hate going to the dentist because they freak me out.  I know almost everyone hates going to the dentist.  But something about it activates my crazy.  It's not that I get paranoid.  It's just my anxiety goes thru the roof and I lie there gripping the arm rests and talking to myself in my head.

You're doing great, Laura-Marie.  These are good people.  They want to help you.  You're doing great.

It's repetitive.  Also yesterday I sometimes counted from one to ten.  I concentrated on breathing.  Yes, my filling had fallen out and they put in a new one.  My dentist doesn't talk casually.  He told me a few times what he was doing in my mouth, but it was all business.  That's fine with me.

Maybe he's like that with everyone, or maybe it's for me, the royally freaked out person.  Anyway, I survived.

My friend G was feeding sunflower seeds to a mockingbird.  He drove me home, where I made rice and waited for Ming to come home.  He was really late and had communicated poorly through text.  The cute animals didn't tell me important facts.

Then I went to bed.  I slept for four hours.  Then I got up for a couple hours.  Then I went back to bed and slept all night.  I am a post-stress sleep fiend.

Our friend had a change of plans and can't host us in Phoenix next week.  So I need to make new plans.


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