So my very own costume-slash-uniform arrive sometime last week and it was only 2 days ago that I even bothered to have it reproduced into several copies so I at least have several to wear. I must say, finding out that Peach Twill is held in high esteem by hospital people all over (in our city, at least) is a bit comforting. But hauling around meters of fabric while searching for appropriate-looking buttons during noon the day after heavy raining is not cool. Literally and figuratively.

Anyway, I never expected my set to fit me perfectly, but something must be said for the fly whose zipper won't even close halfway! I know I gained some weight, but I didn't get that fat. So I grabbed a ruler, measured the waistline, and discovered that several inches were not in attendance. Seriously.

What does one say to your dentist? Not that instant when you walk in the clinic and settle down on that divine chair. What do you say when you have your mouth open with some nasty-sounding thingamajig whizzing away? Now, I think yes or no questions might be managed by other gestures like wiggling eyebrows or grunts. But how about those questions needing specific answers? How do you answer "When was the last time you had your teeth cleaned?" Or "What is you grandmother's maiden name?" I guess understanding open-mouthed patients are one of the weapons in a dentist's arsenal. Add that to making excellent small talk and that amazing mist-making thingy and minutes of nerve-tingling scrutiny and hammering might just fly by.

Just when I think I'm rid of something, it comes to me in vivid terms. In my dreams at least. That was the most appealing sleep I've had in ever. And I've had lots of them, forbye. I didn't even mind playing Sleeping Beauty for a while there.