Can I complain a minute? Just for a minute?
What the hell is up with toothbrush handles these days? I tried to buy a toothbrush last week but they all have these giant bulbous handles that won't fit in our toothbrush holder. It's like the designers just want to make an awesome rockin' sweeet looking brush but don't actually give a shit about functionality. I mean, fine, if I buy the bulby-handled brush because, woo, it's ergonomic and shit, then what? I'm supposed to leave it on the ledge above the sink and not cringe every time it gets knocked onto the bathroom floor? The floor I never mop? Because that's what's going to happen. So I just didn't buy one and then this morning when I had my dentist appointment they gave me a nice new brush for free and the handle was normal, which pleases me.
My dentist appointments are historically fraught with horror, but this one was pretty good comparatively. I was, as usual, momentarily filled with rage towards the hygienist while she was busily scraping my teeth with that metal pick thing. She was less vicious than the regular hygienist (who had the day off) but still, I wanted to grab both her hands at one point and just remove them from my face area. God, I hate having my teeth cleaned. I hate everything about it. I hate the suction tube, the smell of latex gloves, the scraping, the bitewings, the horrible gritty polish shit they scrub into your teeth at the end. HATE.
When she got started, the hygienist, in an attempt to make conversation, asked me if I had kids. All I had time for was a short, "No" before she went back in and that pretty much ended the chatting. I guess it was her usual conversation starter and I disappointed her into silence with my lack of offspring. Sorry! Can't really talk anyway because i have your hands in my mouth and all. She did take some time out to ask me why I still had my wisdom teeth and when I explained that the dentist (who, I might point out, is her boss) told me not to get them pulled she said I should get a second opinion. Upstart! I thought that was pretty funny, actually.
Something I'm not (for once) complaining about:
It's almost November and the weather is Indian Summer XTREME. Lack of rain notwithstanding, I freaking love it. You heard me, I LOVE IT. I want to make out with this weather. I cannot get enough of the ultra-beautiful perfect warm days with a deep blue sky and a crisp clean quality of light you don't get in the summer. Gorgeous.
Fine, make that face, but remember this in January when it's raining ice and the skin on your hands is all chapped. Just remember how nice these sunny 80 degree days feel. Remember it when you're driving through slush and your feet are wet and freezing. Remember it when you have to crank up the space heater because nobody thought about weather-stripping back in the 1950's (sorry, that reminder is just for me.) I mean, I get it, I want to wear my boots and new coat and all, but not bad enough that I'm willing to throw away some perfectly beautiful weather. I'll wait.
Quick weekend update: I sold my shitty old vacuum cleaner at the yard sale and bought a shiny new one! I did not make enough cash for a Dyson (or even for a Dyson clone) but I was able to afford this:
It's a Bissell and it is to the Mighty-Mite what my Avalon is to the Nova. Happy days.