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Whiteboard cat is unimpressed with your teeth
I have to wonder what makes an otherwise normal person choose to become a dental assistant. As noble as it is to want to devote your life to improving the health of others, surely you also have to have an above-average fascination with poking people's sensitive oral parts with sharp objects and watching the resultant blood spill forth.
As of about half an hour ago I'm now in that most blissful of states, with the maximum possible number of days between the current date and my next visit to the dentist. This time around was actually one of the better ones, as there was very little pain while my teeth were scraped - remembering to floss for an above average period after my last visit before giving it up and not doing it again apparently worked wonders. However, they had found other ways to make the experience slightly more unpleasant - while it was happening I had to listen to a man on the radio talk about erectile dysfunction while under the unblinking reproachful stare of a nonplussed-looking cat.
I always take the chance to look around at the place where I used to work while I'm there, and while it looks like our old office's space is now being better utilized, the lifts remain in a state of dreadfully appalling (but are content to just shudder worryingly without being stopped by extradimensional invaders). I went and got some picks from the place where I bought my first guitar as well - it's useful to keep a constant supply because they disappear faster than you'd think, but I do this every six months and consequently have about twenty of them at home strewn in various places around the house.
Then I sat in Taipei Tokyo, ordered some shrimp tempura, went on to the health centre's wireless network and watched TrackTheT(.com) synchronize with the buses outside the cafe window.
As of about half an hour ago I'm now in that most blissful of states, with the maximum possible number of days between the current date and my next visit to the dentist. This time around was actually one of the better ones, as there was very little pain while my teeth were scraped - remembering to floss for an above average period after my last visit before giving it up and not doing it again apparently worked wonders. However, they had found other ways to make the experience slightly more unpleasant - while it was happening I had to listen to a man on the radio talk about erectile dysfunction while under the unblinking reproachful stare of a nonplussed-looking cat.
I always take the chance to look around at the place where I used to work while I'm there, and while it looks like our old office's space is now being better utilized, the lifts remain in a state of dreadfully appalling (but are content to just shudder worryingly without being stopped by extradimensional invaders). I went and got some picks from the place where I bought my first guitar as well - it's useful to keep a constant supply because they disappear faster than you'd think, but I do this every six months and consequently have about twenty of them at home strewn in various places around the house.
Then I sat in Taipei Tokyo, ordered some shrimp tempura, went on to the health centre's wireless network and watched TrackTheT(.com) synchronize with the buses outside the cafe window.
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Shows that I should read before I click.
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