Just another manic Monday?

I had my very first root canal today. It was perfectly fine, and the idea of being done with the horrific pain of the past 11 days was enough to make it something to look forward to. The dentist was new to me, but was so very nice, making sure I was comfortable...the biggest problem was that I kept almost falling asleep on the table, and he needed me to keep my mouth open really wide. This is what I get for staying out after Paula and Brian's wedding last night...but oh it was so fun.

I finished the procedure, paid, and left the office with my face feeling pretty numb. It wasn't until I got into the car that I realized that when I smiled, only half of my face moved. I mean, really, not my eye, not my cheek, not my mouth. So I basically looked like a stroke victim...or like Sloth from the Goonies. Now, I am not someone who thinks that I depend on my looks. I just don't. But seeing my deformed face in the mirror, and being unable to do anything about it, affected me in a way that I didn't expect at all. I was kind of amused, but also a tiny bit worried that it wouldn't go away. I did what I always do when I am in mental turmoil, and called Michael. I told him about my face and said that before I went out to do my errands and pick up the kids, I needed to drive by the office. I said (and this is where I blush a bit at my own self induced pyschological trauma) that I needed him to see it, so that he could see what I look like when I have a stroke, and therefore decide if he was really prepared to stay with me like this, because if not, he may as well leave me now. (This is the point at which every person reading this collectively thanks their lucky stars that I am not their partner) I went to the office, showed him...he was amused, but decided to stay with me anyway, and I went on my way to run my errands. Basically 3 days left before we leave for camp with the most campers we have ever taken in winter, and a snowstorm approaching...I've got things to do, face or no face.

Which leads to my evening plans.

A while back, I joined an alumni group on facebook for my elementary school. Yes, the elementary school where I was teased, beaten, cajoled, mistreated in almost every way a child can mistreat another child, and just generally hated. Why did I join? Well, I am a different person than I was and I am trying to evolve. And, plus, I have that people pleasing thing. And also, they invited me. And it was a private group, so I thought only in joining would I see what people were saying. Turns out, it wasn't anything terribly interesting, but they did end up planning a bar night for everyone in town for the holidays, and that is tonight. I promised my one friend-since-then that I would come, plus I convinced another person I had found on myspace and become friendly with to change his holiday plans and drive up from San Diego early to attend...so I kinda have to go now. And in the wake of the root canal (my face has returned, btw) I could certainly come up with an excuse not to go. I have no shortage of things to do, tomorrow night I have to convince parents I know what I am doing enough to trust me with their kids for a week, and I haven't packed, shopped (for camp), or wrapped presents yet. Guess we aren't celebrating Hanukkah this year.

Call me a glutton for punishment, but I am going. The review as to which sucked more, the reunion or the root canal, will follow.