A Time to Cry, A Time to Laugh.

Do you ever get the feeling that whatever you have to say would be of no interest to anybody, so there’s no point in saying it?

Snap.

That isn’t a good frame of mind for a blogger but it’s the one I’m stuck with at the moment, so you’re stuck with it, too. I suspect it stems from two primary causes:

1) One of the very few relationships of any consequence I have is undergoing serious difficulty at the moment, and I can’t decide which of us is at fault. Maybe it’s both, or neither, and I don’t suppose it matters anyway. Another one might not even be a relationship at all. I’m pretty much in the dark on whether relationships are relationships or not these days. Connections seem to consist more of shimmering plasma than steel wire. And I don’t suppose that matters, either.

2) I have a toothache, courtesy of today’s visit to the dentist. It’s a bit odd that you can go to a dentist and come out with a toothache, isn’t it? Life’s full of things to laugh at. And on the subject of laughing, I might mention what the dentist offered me today.

I have two gaps in my bottom row of teeth, one on each side between a pre-molar and a molar. They’ve been there most of my life and have never troubled me, but today the dentist said he could fill them with a partial denture if I liked. I said I didn’t like, that I wasn’t quite ready for the glass of Steradent by the bed yet, thank you very much! I said it was an age thing. He tried to reassure me by telling me that Harrison Ford has a partial denture, but it didn’t cut any ice. A conversation rolled itself out in front of my eyes as he spoke. Miss Right comes along and says:

‘May I kiss you?’

‘Er, not sure.’

‘Why?’

‘I have a partial denture.’

‘Yuck! That makes you really old.’

‘No, it doesn’t! Harrison Ford’s got a partial denture.’

‘So? Harrison Ford’s really old.’

‘Oh, yeah...’

I think I might drown myself in the bath tonight. Promise me you’ll laugh if I do.