floodgates

“Man is the only animal that laughs and weeps; for he is the only animal that is struck with the difference between what things are and what they ought to be.”
William Hazlitt

I have spent half of today crying, it feels like. Yesterday, I received another packet from the Peace Corps. I tried to call them, but as they’re located on the East Coast, it didn’t get through. After several failed attempts today, I managed to connect with their Medical Eval dentist.

I had, it turns out, received my entire dental eval packet back. Because the dentist I am stuck with see in Eugene decided that I needed to have my wisdom teeth extracted (they’re not even through the gums yet), I was informed that I could not be accepted into the Peace Corps until the teeth were removed.

I got frustrated. My childhood/ teens dentist had insisted to my mother and I that I never, ever attempt to have my wisdom teeth removed until they had “erupted”. There was a high chance that I wouldn’t need them removed. It would be expensive and just a general nuisance. It bears mentioning that my childhood dentist worked at NIH and taught as a Professor of Dentistry in Washington, D.C.

It also doesn’t help the situation that I don’t trust Eugenian dentists as far as I can throw them. Having one drill two teeth for no fricking reason made me paranoid and wary (you never, ever want to hear your dentist say, “oops,” and I have – twice). The fact that one of the teeth the incompetent “Dr” T drilled still hurts to this day pisses me off to no end.

I tried to explain to the PC dentist that I had my reasons for contesting. I finally broke down in tears and explained to him why I didn’t want these people messing with me teeth. He finally agreed that if I got a second opinion that “strongly” supported my claim, he’d let it pass.

By that time, I was crying over the phone (the thought of letting amateurs fuck around with my teeth does that to me), and freaked out by how much this whole thing was going to cost.

There’s no way I’m getting out of having my teeth drilled, I accept that. One of the cavities I accept responsibility for. The other “spot” (no, it’s not a cavity) “could become a cavity”, doesn’t worry me half as much as letting someone drill it.

Been there, done that. The last time it turned out that my enamel had been discoloured by my braces.

(“oops”)

Wow, that’s powerful stupid, isn’t it?

I came downstairs still sobbing, and really upset my Dad enough that he didn’t even complain about how much the dental work is going to cost. And cost it will, the Peace Corps doesn’t reimburse for dental work. Dad also came up with several suggestions for ways of circumventing the system that might work. He also suggested that I consider giving up on the Corps and just go to business school instead.

That is NOT an option. I told him so, and he just sighed. Seriously, I’ve come this far, I’m not giving up now. I’m nearly done with the acceptance process.

We ended up getting no work done today, as I kept tearing up at odd moments. Dad and I ran several errands, he took me to lunch and didn’t even complain when I asked to look for invitations for TheBon‘s bridal shower. I found some that I plan on showing to Emmos tomorrow.

I ended up taking a nap when we got home. I was so emotionally exhausted that I could barely stand. Crying never makes me feel better. I remember reading in my teens that women and men were physiologically different when it came to the act of crying. Women, the article claimed, were supposed to receive some sort of emotion “release” due to the release of chemicals in the brain. Men, the article claimed, do not experience this phenomenon.

Whether it’s true or not, this has never happened to me. I always feel just awful after crying.

Anyway, after my nap and dinner, I got two repeats done on Monkey:


I’m one pattern repeat from starting the heels. That’s something, I guess.

I think I’m going to go and sit quietly. Maybe a bubble bath will help.

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