Something seemed to be going on where my menu on the right would just disappear. I narrowed it down to something to do with the poll, but I couldn’t figure out how to fix its PHP versus the weblog’s. Ah well, I just ain’t no stinking programmer.

I found a better looking poll instead. (Actually, I tested three or so polls and then just stopped.)

Meanwhile, I’ve been watching baseball, making some appointments and shredding, shredding, shredding. I’ve gone through every single scrap of paper in my house, and I’m throwing everything (almost) away. Once my living room doesn’t look like an explosion at a paper warehouse, I’ll post a before and after. Right now, it’s just to fucking frightening.

If I were a giant hamster, I would have a happy nest. As a grown human, it’s more psychotic than nest-y.

In the karma wheel of life, I have some mixed feelings today. Apparently, my dental poisoning was the catalyst for the assistant chick’s heave ho. I called to follow up on getting the crown finished. (it just don’t feel right half done.) And, in the when it rains/pours column, since the poisoning, another chunk of formally living enamel cracked off another boulder of silver amalgam holding my mouth together. So, the side I was newly favoring to make up for the half-done crown is now sensitive to cold, heat, movement, light, sound, political upheaval, wind, joy, autumn, the tides, hope, despair. I’ve been mainlining Sensodyne.

Because much as I love a warm bowl of oatmeal, I decided I had to call them back. I called the office, and at first a younger woman answered the phone and started taking the information. I gave my name and said I was looking to have my crown finished. She put me on hold. There was a bit of a wait, and an older woman got on the line to tell me that they shitcanned the suction failing assistant and they really had hoped I would call back, return and let them not poison me anymore.

While I do think saying that you know how to assist a dentist but not revving the suck wand up like an amateur and then acting rather unaffected by the chick retching up burning saliva and bile right next to you might indicate some work deficiencies, I’m not psyched to be a party to a firing. Maybe if I weren’t so close to the job loss thang, I might embrace the justice a tad more.

Really, though, I think she should have at least said good night when she left the night of the poisoning. I think I would be cordial to my victims.