Well, one knew at the outset that when committing to the post-a-day task there would be days when it might feel better to say nothing at all. This is one of those. Let the facts speak for me:
I have been to darkest Kent to visit the dentist, an hour's journey each way, plus half an hour in gridlocked traffic.
I made this journey because the dentist has the virtues of being good at what he does and sensitive to one's condition.
I have paid £120 for him to fix something on a tooth restoration.
The thing he fixed has just broken off.
It is probably my fault for biting my nail too vigorously.
I will have to do it all again next week.
But I may not have the wherewithal.
Post-exertional exhaustion does not necessarily give one a good perspective on this kind of thing.
Be seeing you.
1 comment:
Dear Signs:
Belated Happy Birthday.
And good luck with your tooth.
A good dentist is worth his weight in silver, gold or amalgam.
All the best from rainy Boston . . .
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