An imperfect morning

Ever have one of those days that just seems to start perfectly and gets better as it goes along?

Well that wasn’t yesterday.

With an almost carbon copy schedule from a year ago, I had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Moreau. I slept through my alarm and barely had time to shower and brush and floss (not all at the same time, you perv). I know dentists can tell when you haven’t been doing all you should, but you still want to cram for the exam, as it very much were.

Dr. Moreau is on the fourth floor of a medical building downtown, and when I got to the lobby, none of the four elevators were working. I took the stairwell to get to the appointment on time. She does not like stragglers. I probably could have used the exercise anyway, but still.

I went to my regular dentist just the day before because the last time I saw Dr. Moreau she wanted everything nice and tidy so she could check out the area in my mouth that concerns her. I naively thought that if I went and got cleaned the day before, everything would be great. You wash your car the morning of the wedding, not two weeks before, am I right? Well it turns out that idea does not transfer over into the world of oral health (hello!). Apparently my gums were too “agitated” for her to do a proper evaluation and so I have to come back in six weeks! Damn, I mean that means another morning off work, and like an effed up version of Groundhog Day, another six weeks of low-grade anxiety.

When I got to the parkade, my ticket wouldn’t read in the machine, and I had to get out of my car and find an attendant. That took about 15 minutes and by then I needed to pay more because I was in the damn garage that much longer!

Next stop was my annual financial advisor visit. You may recall last year things went swimmingly. Let’s just say it’s been a volatile year for the ol’ portfolio. My advisor actually said at the end of the meeting. “At least you have your health.” That’s something you really don’t want to hear from your financial advisor, let me tell you. Plus, how the hell does she know I have my health? Maybe I don’t. Maybe I’ve got the herpangina or something.

I thought at least I could salvage the morning by getting a little treat at Tim Horton’s before reporting to work. A nice “everything” bagel with strawberry cream cheese and a coffee should do the trick, right? Well apparently this Tim Horton’s “doesn’t have” strawberry cream cheese, only plain. That’s like an Arby’s running out of curly fries! It’s just not done. I know, first world problems, but still.

Six more weeks of low grade anxiety.



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2 responses to “An imperfect morning

  1. Carol

    I laughed for what must have been a solid minute at herpangina.

    Sorry it was a rough morning! Just remember back to the perfect one and know that it’s possible again. Perhaps in 6 weeks time…

  2. Pingback: The Office of Dr. Moreau Part 2 | Mountains Beyond Mountains

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