So, come to find out, D’s mood-swings like a pendulum ex has de-friended him on the Facebook, making it so that he can’t see pictures of their daughter anymore. Her reason? He’s online ALL the time and never messages the child that doesn’t have a FB account. Not sharing pictures is just one more violation of the divorce laws here in Sunny Cat Box Nevada. I’m really hoping that D talks to a lawyer once he’s home.
I had my annual 3 month cleaning today. And I’ve got another one in 2 weeks for a cavity and a night-guard. Seems I clench and/or grind my teeth. So much so that my back teeth have become pressure sensitive. The cavity is a HUGE deal for me – I haven’t had one in over 20 years. The hygienist said that adults my age usually end up with root canals, not cavities; I’ll take a cavity if it’s one or the other.
Once again I got the whole “do you have your wisdom teeth?”
“Are they impacted?”
“No, they never came in, and I’ve only got three.”
“Are you sure? Because I don’t see them in the x-rays.”
“I’m sure. Really.”
My wisdom teeth bug me when I’m sick or have some sort of sinus thing going on. I’m terrified of having to get them out – everyone I’ve heard of that had theirs out has a hard time with the recovery, something super nasty sounding called “dry sockets.” Thank you very much, but no. My wisdom teeth have never given me any trouble, I’m going to treat them the way they’ve treated me. I don’t poke bears with sticks, harass sleeping husbands after a long plane ride, and I most definitely don’t have surgery on pieces of myself that are minding their own business.
Thinking on the dentist, I’m realizing that once D’s out of the military, we’re losing our health insurance completely unless one of us gets a job of some sort. Crap. Okay, one more thing to think and plan for. Dammit!
Today is one of my days off from school. I should be cleaning house, particularly the kitchen (‘cause it’s demanding a game of “what’s that smell”), but I really just want to work on my web sites and deal with blogging and all that stuff… No, I’m going to end up cleaning the kitchen and at least doing SOME laundry, cause Boychik’s wearing his last clean pair of underwear. Boo.