Sulk

I am drooling on my desk.

A couple of times I've looked down at my notes and there has been spots of spittle slowly spreading the ink.
Lovely.

I've been to the dentist, for what they euphemistically call 'deep cleaning' - periodontal cleaning, followed by the fastest and most expensive part of the session, the thirty seconds of inserting four antibiotic microspheres, for the princely sum of $300.

That's one hell of an hourly wage there, Bob.

There are a couple of things that feel wrong here.

First, I've all of a sudden become bad with the dentist. I never used to be. I was totally fine with everything from cleaning to the huge bunch of extractions that happened before I got my braces. But now those days are gone, I'm not so self assured. There's been a resurgence of how I used to feel before the age of about fourteen - couldn't stand the sight of blood, hated injections and the doctor. Today I felt lightheaded and a little panicky in the chair as the anaesthetic was coming in.

I have two excuses;

1) The dental surgery was showing horror movies in the waiting room, where I had to sit for twenty five minutes beforehand. 40" of flat screen high definition stabbing, gushing blood and panicking screaming children did me no good. I was already nervous.

2) The dental surgery uses hypodermic cartridges or something that are inserted into a reusable polished steel plunger assembly. So it looks a bit like this:

Which really doesn't help.

(Hint to non-video gaming readers - this is a youtube sourced screengrab from the game 'Bioshock'. This needle is about to make the lead character able to shoot lightning out of his hand whether he likes it or not. No one knows if it's meant to be pleasant. The character doesn't opine on the subject, not even so much as a "blimey look at that". But still. Scares the living crap out of me when it crops up during a lunch hour dental stop.)

The only silver lining (other than the obvious dental health benefits) is that every time I sit down in the dentist chair and close my eyes for a second or two, I have the overwhelming urge to giggle like a loon as I remember this post from JonnyBs private secret diary, which is one of my favourite blog posts of all time and probably one of the funniest things on the internet.

Second, there was a lot of blood and bits. Bits are probably worse than blood, because blood is fairly ubiquitous in a pumping-jollily-around sort of way, but bits are frighteningly specific bits and bobs of your body that were previously sitting around metabolising and supposedly doing something useful.
Blood and bits by themselves are not the problem. The fact is that I went into the dentist, I got injected all over my mouth, I was gouged at for forty five minutes (cost to me $30.40) and worked on by the specialist for thirty seconds (cost to me $300) and I produced blood and bits in plentiful abandon, but...and here's the thing that feels wrong...it was all over inside of my lunch hour and I'M BACK AT WORK.
No afternoon off, no endless cups of tea, no soup lovingly microwaved by Mum.
Not so much as a sugar-free lollipop.

Surely for all that drama and expense I should be made a fuss of?