Today was a rough day for the old ego.
I went to the dentist for the bi-annual checkup and blammo — one of my molars cracked a bit. Nothing that causes any pain or even any cavity action. Honestly I blame my old dentist from Cleveland who had a fetish for doing procedures. But that doesn’t change the present.
Turns out I can either get a fill followed by a crown or just fuck-it and go straight to the crown. The advice from the dentist is a crown.
Then I get home to pick up my stuff before heading to work. Brush my hair in the mirror I notice a flare of white. Not the stray white hairs I’ve been toting around for years, but a patch of old-man white.
It’s times like this that drive things home for me… all of the impermanence of everything — including ourselves.
Looks like I picked the wrong day to stop sniffing glue.