I had the cavity the dentist found on Friday filled first thing this morning, because nothing starts the day off better than a cheek full of novocaine. The dentist’s office was positively mobbed this morning—I guess lots of people have suffered all weekend and ask to be seen ASAP on Monday—and my teeny little cavity was a low priority. I suspect the dentist knew he’d be running between me and several other patients, because he injected about a gallon of novocaine into my face and then LEFT for half an hour.
Laying prone on a dentist chair while you stare at the ceiling and poke your rapidly-numbing face isn’t actually all that much fun after the first two minutes, it turns out.
So I got my filling, and realized I was really hungry, but my plans to stop for a bagel on the way home were thwarted because I wasn’t so much “sorta tingly” (as promised) as I was “drooling all over my shirt.”
Fortunately I had plenty to do at home.
First I fielded all of the new CraigsList mail. No, I will not deliver my washer and dryer to you six towns away. (I went back and edited my listing to be more clear on this point. Because apparently not actually STATING that I won’t deliver means that clearly I WILL deliver, because I have nothing better to do with my time.) Yes, you can come see that rug.
My favorite was the people who are very eager to come see the washing machines. I just… don’t quite understand that. What’s to SEE? They’re white. (I listed model numbers and such; maybe they’re checking for graffiti? Oh! Maybe they want to know if they’re solid oak or just oak veneer!)
After the various emails were answered, I started making a few phone calls I needed to make.
“Huwwo? I need oo awwange to turr da phoh off?”
Novocaine: Your ticket to making everything more fun!
Even better was when I headed out to my old (local) bank, later, to close out my accounts. I did it at noontime so as to draw death glares from the maximum number of people waiting on line during their lunch breaks. (Hey, I didn’t MEAN to. I thought they’d take me back to a desk and sit down with me, but no, the LONE teller just started writing out slips and offering me cash. Interesting.) (Apparently this is what happens when you walk up and says “Hi, I eed to cwose out mah accouwons.”)
I also took my car in to the dealership to have the oil changed, and just for fun I stopped in to the sales office to ask them what they’d give me for it (I’m trying to sell it before I leave), which meant I had to endure listening to the sales guy explain to me how REALLY, the $2.82 he’s offering me is not such a bad deal at all. (He tried to convince me that my car would be worth MUCH less in Georgia. Which, okay, perhaps you don’t make back the cost of the heated seats and whatnot, but the way he was talking, you’d think Georgia would kick me right out of the state for having a FOREIGN SUBARU.) I can’t help but wonder if my impaired facial coordination had something to do with his talking to me like I was a little slow.
Later, I realized it had been, like, FOUR HOURS and my face was still numb. Because I am calm and rational, I began to wonder if maybe I’d had not just a filling, but perhaps a filling and a small stroke. Then I popped open a Diet Coke—the very agent by which I probably ended up with that stupid cavity in the first place—and proceeded to spend the next hour trying to get more of it into my mouth than on my lap.
There was more email, and work, and some more packing of boxes (THE MANY ENDLESS BOXES), and by the time the kids got home from school the feeling had FINALLY returned to my lips.
And that was handy, because when Otto called tonight he was on the road on his way here. And it would’ve been a real shame if I couldn’t have cracked that grin when he said, “You know what this call is, right? This is the very last time we have to have a nightly phone call because we’re living apart.”
I so wanted to say, “I KNOW! And the next time I have a filling and my face is all paralyzed you’ll be right here and I can give you the play by play! YOU’RE SO LUCKY!”