Slow morning today, I had a dentist appointment. It wasn’t anything horrific, I tend to have pretty benign encounters with the dentist. Actually, the worst ones I had were with dentists I saw as a kid. I mean, the dental hygienists, the ones who actually clean your teeth before the doctor takes a look at you, they were always cool. But I had a dentist who really got after me about … everything.

…I basically gave up hope that I would have teeth after the age of twenty-five. It honestly wasn’t until I saw this new dentist about six months ago that thought I’d have teeth after thirty. (The amount of time I imagined I got to keep my teeth kept sliding up without my knowledge — probably through some bizarre rationalization.)

Now I’m actually looking forward to getting some dental work done. I asked about some preventative care I could take and there’s a filling I could have replaced, plus a couple cavities I could have drilled. I think to myself, “Why not? If it means I get to keep my own teeth longer?” Maybe that’s a weird way of looking at it.

…Uh, so that’s what delayed my writing today. And what got me thinking in this oddly introspective manner right off the bat.