The morning's chores never get done right. I dash from having done half of one job to start another, only I forget what it was and dash back, get halfway and ... Blind panic basically.
I have to take a vallium just to get me there. I honestly believe I'd just not turn up without it. This time I panicked about the vallium well before I started panicking about the dentist. I discovered the pack I had was out of date, with only two days to get more. Our surgery ain't the fastest at repeat prescriptions. Then of course there was the flat tyre making getting into the village a nightmare. The RAC were frantically rescuing single mothers and their hoards of kiddies from the sides of motorways. Well, I could hardly whine about them taking 18 hours to get to me, snug at home.
I have to take the vallium as I leave home, otherwise I'm likely to fall asleep driving to town. So the effects rarely kick in before he's halfway thru the job. Then by the time I'm staggering back to the carpark I'm half in shock and half comatose. I have to build in two extra hours to sleep it off before driving home.
When I get home I'm completely useless for the rest of the day. Sleepwalking till bedtime usually. Then as I come round from all the chemicals, I wake up. And this is the worst bit. The stuff in the dentist's chair is a piece of pee pee compared to the fearsome tantrums I have as me poor old body screams "WTF was THAT all about?"
So by 4am I'm in pieces.
As a result the following day is pretty much a write off.....and the one after that I'm wracked with guilt for ever starting smoking in the first place, getting nothing done for two days and longing for the inevitable full set of plastic gnashers.
I have an appointment each Tuesday afternoon for the next three weeks. I'll be in therapy before this round of
Never mind .... while there's mutts like this about the place I can't help but grin most of the time :o)