Gratuitous cat picture selected.
Had a cavity filled.
Feeling too punk to assemble the bits.
Update, Tuesday evening: Feeling better gradually. It isn’t so much the dental work as the epinephrine in the Lidocaine that lays me low. If I remember in time, I can usually convince my dentist to use “the old stuff” without it. Doesn’t work as well and has to be re-upped halfway through, but doesn’t leave me with the shivers. When I go for my implant, they will have to use L for the vaso-constrictive properties. Oh, goody. Still, I’d rather be a regular at a dental office than with a cardiologist.
I spent Monday afternoon whining and feeling decrepit. Was I really getting so old that a relatively minor procedure could wipe me out? No. Husband says I was no different 20 years ago.
My timing was fortuitous. Mathilda is in a mare mood. When she gets like this, she has no sense of self-preservation. She will trot (!) around her pen, screaming for Rodney to come back to her. Yes, she trots. No, it’s not pretty. So, I sit with her while Rodney gets his field time. I bask in the sun, read books, and look like a hero. Shiny.