My teeth. I got them cleaned and X-rayed yesterday. No cavities. No gum disease. No need for expensive orthodontia requiring headgear. My new job comes with a new dental insurance network that—hooray!—includes a dentist friend of mine I’d been hoping to switch to for a long time. His office is like a posh spa, albeit a posh spa where they stick sharp things in your gums. And in addition to my bag of toothbrushes, floss and Listerine samples, he also gave me a hug when I left.
Our kitchen floor. The second and final phase of our reflooring project began this morning. While we were in New York a couple weeks ago, we had our orange-juice-colored floors sanded and stained a gorgeous dark walnut color. But the kitchen floor had so much damage that the contractor recommended we rip it out and start over. He also gave us a respectable estimate for installing tile while we were gone as well, but we didn’t have time to pick out new tile before we left. Now our new tile is picked and purchased and sitting in boxes on our back porch, and at this writing our ugly old floor is gone, the subflooring is laid … and tomorrow morning our sexy black marble kitchen floor will become a reality. Our new condo is looking less and less like a tenement each day!
Our bathroom door. The guest bedroom has a door leading directly into the guest bathroom. Which sounds like it could provide a nice little private passageway for friends, family members and visiting dignitaries, but it was installed so it bangs directly into the hallway door leading into the guest bathroom. And since the bathroom is as tiny as the probability that Michael Savage is heterosexual, the bedroom-to-bathroom door occupies the only wall where you could put something useful. Like a place to hang towels. So the contractor ripped it out today, and he’ll commence making a nice flat wall in its place tomorrow. All for less than the cost of Ted Haggard’s weekly male-hooker-and-meth budget.
The weather. Apparently my hometown is getting buried under ice and snow and the debris of shattered telephone poles. I’m supposed to drive there tomorrow for my nephew’s eighth birthday. But I have a huge aversion to driving in bad weather. And a long history of skidding into things in bad weather. So I have to decide just how much I don’t want to disappoint him. Of course, if I do go, I’ll get to eat cake. So you can see my dilemma. Which is nowhere near as troublesome as this awkward little conundrum.