Me & The Hygenist.

It's been a rough couple of weeks over here in Work 40 Hours a Week at a Real Job Land. I am, as you know, also trying to apply to graduate school at the same time, which aside from the fact that trying to do two very consuming things at once is virtually impossible, is difficult because the more I hate my job, the more I care about going to graduate school. Pretty soon my personal statements are going to be less about why I'd be a valuable asset to their program and more about how I need them to please save me from the desperation of my current position. It's not always that bad, and I'm not always a whiner. Except lately it is that bad and lately I am a big whiner.

Yesterday I had to leave work early to go to the dentist for a cleaning and check up. A little background for those who don't know: I broke my two front teeth pretty much in half a little over two years ago, after which ensued a solid year and a half of numerous root canals (each front tooth was root canaled twice), gum surgery, crowns, etc, etc, etc... An interesting tidbit about me is that I have had over 7 pairs of front teeth. Anyway, now that I've come out on the other side of that ridiculously long and painful ordeal, I am a tad bit wary of what people do to my mouth.

I arrived at the dentists' office a little tense, trying to figure out the best way to explain to the hygenist just HOW careful I wanted her to be. She sat me down in the chair and I gave her a little summary of what I've had done and asked EXACTLY what she was planning to do to my front teeth, to which she replied, irritated, "I'm going to clean them." I persisted, asking her exactly how she was going to clean them, and when she whipped out a long pokey metal tool I flinched and said maybe the head dentist should clean them. That turned out to be the wrong thing to say, because then I got a speech from her about how she's been a hygenist for 26 years and she's far better at cleaning teeth than the dentist. And then I started feeling like I was going to cry and told her I've been through a lot and I just don't trust random people with weapons working on my very sensitive mouth and there's nothing I can do about being worried about that. And then we were both silent while she started working on the other teeth. After a while, she admitted she could see where I was coming from and why she had to earn my trust. So she started off really gentle with the front teeth, and I started relaxing and before you knew it we were all chummy and chatting about the elections and getting your hair highlighted.

All in all, it was by far the most bizarre and emotionally charged encounter I've ever had with a dental hygenist. By the end though, I really felt good about standing my ground, and proud that we'd come to terms over this little argument. Like, maybe if I can get over my problems with my hygenist, I can figure out a way to get over my problems with the various people at my job that drive me nuts.

Also, I drove right home and bought this on Amazon:

I'm convinced it's worth every penny.

In other news, I will get a brief respite from the chaos of work when A & I go to upstate New York to visit my little (she is literally little at 4'10") grandma. I'm hoping to come away with some good photos of her farmhouse and the surrounding countryside.

Love, love.