Running Your Own Reality.

Something reminded me today that I have a dental appointment on 4^th October, and that realisation further reminded me how much I object to appointments. They place an obligation on you, and I dislike having obligations placed on me. I only like doing what I want to do when I want to do it.

‘Can you do 11.00 am on Thursday 17^th July?’ asks some weasly receptionist trying hard to avoid displaying his or her power complex. How can I know that? I might not be in the mood for going to the dentist that day. I might be in a very bad mood and want to stand in a field doing a primal scream instead. But I still have to say ‘yes’ because that’s the system.

It’s a bit of a cheek, isn’t it? And I’m not at all taken in by the NHS who would have you believe that if you miss an appointment your teeth will turn a darker shade of aubergine and disintegrate within fifteen seconds of missing the appointed time.

According to some people, we each make our own realities. OK, so if that’s the case why can’t I turn up when I want to and the dentist will be all ready and waiting.

‘Good morning, Mr Beazley. Are you in the mood for our services today?’

‘I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, would I? Just get on with it before my mood changes and I want to go feed the ducks instead.’

There’s something going wrong with reality, isn’t there? I wonder what it is.