I had a doctor’s appointment today, to tighten my braces. It hurt like hell – the metaphor about having teeth pulled out would be redundant here, but that’s how I felt. I only said ‘ow’ twice. I didn’t want to be a wuss, so I laughed.
And then the doctor said my dental hygiene was ‘less than she expected’, though I’d been spending half my life brushing. And I said ‘Sure, thanks, I’ll try harder,’ and spent $15 on a new toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouthwash.
And then I had a breakdown at the bus stop. I bawled until my eyes and brow hurt from being screwed up. I deplored my ugly face and fat arse, the cold, the darkness, the strictness of the doctor. I scared A. half to death. It was pitiful.
And then we came home. I had some tea, brushed my teeth thoroughly, watched the Simpsons, listened to A. sing, took pictures of my pathetic self, and read this post by Dooce. You gotta admire her. She’s got contagious bravery.
P.S. Received a lovely email from Yee-haw’s very sweet engineer, could almost believe it wasn’t pre-written, but the instructions didn’t help. Still pondering my next step.