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Friday, October 14, 2011

"....failure to communicate."

Last night, or should I say very early this morning, I found myself up, watching something something lame on that "all weddings, all the time" channel and I was seriously considering ordering a pair of pajama jeans. Now, for some weird reason, after about 11:30 the wireless Internet connection loses about 40% of it's power and there's no way to bring it back up. I didn't want to CALL the number on my screen and talk to the helpful operator who would find me the right size based on my regular pant size because I didn't want to admit to a living, breathing person just what my regular pant size IS.  I decided to go on line and order them because I knew that the only person who would know how big my ass is would be the person who pulled my order and shoved it in the shipping bag and, while he or she may well have thought "Holy cow, does that woman have any clue how BIG her butt is?" at least I wouldn't have to know who it was.

After about 20 minutes of trying in vain to get a connection I gave up and went to bed, having decided that I would go to the "As Seen on TV" store in the mall this week-end because what I REALLY wanted was a set of those plastic slats that go under your sofa cushions and prop up the couch so that the next time Sumo wrestlers drop in they can sit down without sinking into the flea infested sleeper sofa frame. I also decided I wanted one of those meat loaf pans that keep the meat loaf up above the bottom of the pan...the one that comes with the knife that has the movable guide on the side so I can slice my meatloaf, and bread in perfectly even slices because the Orowheat Bakery doesn't do a good enough job slicing bread.

I was up late for a number of reasons. First, I went to bed then got up for a drink of water. I told myself it was for a drink of water knowing full well it was probably going to be for another slice of the chocolate cake that was in the fridge. Also, the cat was on a tear which meant he was hungry and wouldn't stop climbing the drapes until he wasn't, he had already knocked the phone off of the table and it was shrieking that awful "I'm off the hook" sound it makes just before it goes dead. The hubster sleeps through all this. He sleeps through earthquakes and will probably miss the Second Coming if it occurs between the hours of midnight and 7am.

I had finished the dishes a little before 8pm, although they were still in the dish drainer. The kitchen had been wiped down and both sides of the sink showed nothing but stainless steel, a surface I hate for sinks, btw, but beggars can't be choosers. I flipped on the kitchen light, grabbed a can of cat food and turned to the dish drainer for a spoon.

Both sides of the sink were full. There were no fewer than a DOZEN glasses, two mugs, two plates, a lot of silverware and a cereal bowl full of the telltale orange powder that denotes someone got into the Cheetos. I put away the dinner dishes and started on the ones in the sink, all the while wondering why the HELL can't ANYONE use ONE glass for TWO drinks? There are FOUR of us. But every time someone wants a drink of water they get a new glass. Not only that, they then, considerately, put it in the sink so I don't have to pick it up off the floor by the chair. Do they WASH it? I think we all know that answer...

I went back to bed and played solitaire on the television, without the pajama jeans. I was at the dentist bright and early for my crown only to discover that a) the office had neglected to tell me that my insurance was maxed out for the year and my co-pay was going to be EIGHT HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS and b) MY dentist still wasn't back and I was going to see Ms. "I work on people's teeth when I had a contagious cold"  and c) they weren't going to put a crown on the tooth that recently had a root canal, they were going to put it on the broken, but otherwise healthy tooth because they had already billed the insurance for that...and been paid for it. I should wait until JANUARY for the second crown since I told them I didn't have almost a thousand bucks to spare right now, and just remember not to use that side of my mouth so the temp doesn't come off.

Well, I said, not mean but matter of fact..."fine, put the crown on the one that just had the root canal and we do the OTHER one in January."

They told me that I had been clear in telling them I didn't care about the tooth with the decay the size of a baseball and the root canal, I WANTED the broken tooth fixed first. I pointed out that my priority was the PAIN, not the cosmetic esthetics's. She knew this because that's what the fresh faced just out of dental school girl had written on my chart. After a discussion about how long today's unnecessary crown was going to take, I ripped off the bib and left. Yeah, I know, again. I'm turning into such a GIRL about this stuff, I know. I'm sure that by now these people think I'm a lunatic. Actually, I'm okay with that.

I got back to work and called my Dental insurance, so see if there was SOME way to change horses in mid-stream. My insurance company was very interested in the fact that they had paid my dentist's office for work that hadn't bee done yet and offered to call the dentist FOR me.

Ten minutes later, my dentist had agreed to refund the money back to the insurance company. As soon as it's received and posted, I will have enough on my annual left to go to another dentist and have a crown put on the root canal, which the insurance company agreed should take priority, in spite of the dentist's office assertion that the broken tooth was more important because it would develop decay and require a root canal sometime within the next 78 days. Which is when it hit me.

There are 71 days left until Christmas.

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