So yeah, I’ve had a dumb weekend. Friday was ok, but saturday found me in a hell of a bad mood. Sat inside most of the day going between snoozing in my chair, cleaning the house, reading documentation on the Ruby programming language, and feeling bad about my life. Moody McGivesafuck. Brooded over myself as I changed venue; left the house at sunset and ambled over to Epoch where I absorbed myself in journal writing and reading more on Ruby. In one weekend I’ve read nearly the entire manual. Finally, my friend Jonathon came around and we discussed things; felt better about my current state.
By this morning, I felt fine. Took my time getting out of bed. An hour of reading the Internet did its job on distancing me from my snoozy feelings of a pure morning. Did laundry while making lunch, then read some more Ruby docs. Got dressed and went to Epoch. More reading. It’s my goal to learn enough Ruby to proficiently use it with Ruby On Rails to build a site for a friend of mine. After several hours there, I started walking; took the long way home in the crisp air. Autumn is approaching, and this full moon is making things nice. I haven’t driven my car since I got home from work on Friday; it’s a weird feeling. As long as my car’s not up to snuff, it’s in my best interest to let it sit in the parking lot whenever I can. It’ll still drive decently, but the smoke, the smoke.
So I’ve still got this outstanding dental issue. There’s the molar that needs a root canal. That’s still gotta get done. I’m fine with that; I’m fairly certain I know where I’m going for that. But just an hour ago I discovered something else that may’ve happened this week since my recent dentist visit: I noticed in the mirror that my crooked incisor tooth is broken. There’s a crack right across it on the front; may’ve happened while eating, since the tooth has a filling on the backside. This scares the shit out of me. I don’t know what procedure is done for cases like that. Bonding? Patching up? Removal?
I’m becoming a poor man, and my bad teeth are to blame.
Ok, so what I thought was a crack in a tooth was just the edge of the tooth-colored remnants of dinner. After brushing, it’s no longer there. I feel like a fool. I still need the root canal though.