Fun in the dentist's chair

When I don't get around to putting my pills in their little boxes, I end up fishing for them in the bag where they have lived for years.

This is all well and good except for days like today when I am in a rush. I worked most of the morning on one of my Mount Holyoke stories and was cutting it pretty close for getting to the dentist's appointment where I would get the long-awaited bridge.

I am down to about 12 pills in the morning. I dropped them one by one into a cap that I had turned over. One pill here, two pills there, etc. I picked up two little white ones and was just about to pop them into my mouth when I realized they were a little large for my daily prednisone and were in fact two milligrams of Ativan.

"OMG!" I said to no one in particular.

I would have been fine getting there, and it actually might have made it more fun to go through the commotion in my mouth as the dentist shot me with a ton of novocaine and then drilled and glued. As it was, I had enough distraction watching the ladies on "The View" drool over the actor Don Johnson and listening to them pose the question of which had a greater pull for women in marriage, love or lust, and which was the greater reason for divorce, lack of love or lack of lust or too much lust.

I think my dentist was weighing in on this, but I couldn't hear him over the drilling.

Getting home on two Ativan would have necessitated a call to Joe, but as it was, I walked out fine on my way to get a prescription for an antibiotic and for oxycodone to deal with the expected pain.

The bridge is just temporary, and I need to go back in two weeks for another appointment.

But in summary:

Come see me smile!

Watch me chew!