Dentists go home

I am going to start a racially insensitive campaign to get dentists out of this country, I swear. Racially insensitive because, let's face it, ALL dentists are from different countries to the one they practise in, even my new "British" dentist is from north of the border (which, I have discovered, means that in the English language she really IS from a different country i.e. Scotland not England: it's called a "constituent country", apparently.) Even when I lived in the southern hemisphere, the people drilling through my teeth without anaethetic (NOT KIDDING) were not homegrown Aussies, oh no. So, racism it is.

I am going to do this because I have now had two dentist appointments in two days and frankly I have had it with this whole "teeth" thing. Yes, mine suck, but I don't need that rubbed in my face now, do I? I don't need you to poke and prod around in my mouth and make cryptic comments. I certainly don't need you to tell me you need to extract my wisdom teeth in the distant future but won't do it now because you might paralyse my face, so now each time I am going to go in terror of your big stabby knives. Which may or may not stab me at any given time. My mental health is always questionable and you, dentists, may just tip me over the edge. In short: Forget being healthy, I'd rather be in denial.

I started playing the Sims 2 again yesterday, and now I am sensing that it may become my life again. I deliberately called my new town Macondo so I don't have to worry about aging everybody roughly at the same time- it's magical realism, yo! Clearly this is a better way to spend my time than working my way through "Logic".