It's only 11:10 on Monday morning and already my week is not off to a good start. It started yesterday when I began to not-so-silently flip out about this morning's periodontal visit. I lay in bed, eyes wide open, for a few hours, dropped off to sleep and then woke in a panic around 3AM.
When it was time to get up, I carefully scrubbed my teeth and toddled off to see my gruff Israeli periodontist. He's very capable and seems like a nice guy, but I wish he were a little cuddlier. A little less of a hard-ass. My therapist once suggested I discuss my feelings of dread and terror with him, but believe me when I say that would only make our relationship way more uncomfortable than it has to be. The fact that I regularly burst into tears on the chair kind of makes my feelings clear anyway.
And you know how usually when you're worried about something, it turns out that the reality isn't nearly as bad as you thought it would be? Well, in this case, my worrying was completely warranted. And then some. Somehow I need to gather $20,000 in the very near future. And up my pain threshold while I'm at it.
I know it's not cancer or a brain tumor or even an amputated limb, but this is really fucking with my mood and my ability to write so I might not be as chatty as I normally am. That's all. Carry on. And if any of you have a spare 20k laying around, well, never mind.
Also, if you want a laugh, check out my pal Ivan's new blog here. Also, last week I was feeling funnier and so I wrote a piece about having sex with Rahm Emanuel. (Even though the reality would be way hotter than it would be funny.) And when I'm feeling sad, I always look at Elsa Mora's blog because she just seems like the sweetest, kindest, most positive person in the world. Plus, she's incredibly talented and her art makes me smile.