Today I had my first dental appointment in … well, you read the title, don’t need to type it again.

It was really good fun! I booked it about a fortnight ago, and it made me feel grown-up and responsible. I encourage you all to take your diary right now and book in a check up! (I also registered with a doctor a few months ago, and I have just filled out an electoral roll form — I am all about the taking responsibility at the moment).

The appointment went much as I expected it. I used to want to be a dentist when I was about 14 (ha ha!). This came about because we learned about teeth in biology, and I found the whole thing blindingly fascinating.

Isn’t that weird?

Interesting enough that, when I had 4 pre-molars taken out to make space for my crooked teeth to move about it, I kept them. I still have them today in a film cannister (remember them, before the days of digital cameras?). They’re about an inch long, with the root, and I think they’re pretty cool. I’ll show you them if you ask nicely.

Anyway, I listened to the dentist reporting the status of my teeth to her assistant, and I mostly knew what she was talking about. I actually quizzed her at the end of the appointment. I’m like some kind of dental geek. I asked her about my wisdom tooth, because she’d said, “8 … watch” so I thought “Uh-oh dental caries!” and it turns out I have a small one forming that may need filling, but maybe not. (Teeth are numbered 1-8, 1 being the incisors at the front, 8 being the wisdom teeth right at the back).

I’m a little sad about that, actually. My wisdom teeth are only about 6 years old, and they’ve still got that new feeling to them. Kinda like when you buy a new pair of shoes, except they’re smaller and in my mouth. And sharper, on average, than my other molars. It’s a shame that one of them already has signs of decay.

Anyhoo, turns out I need two small fillings in tooth 6 or 7, I forget which, so I’ve got another visit coming up in October.

Hooray for NHS dental treatment, by the way! I walked past the practise the day after it opened. How lucky! I bloody love the NHS. Goodness me, thanks to Obama and all the American opposition to health care reform — and all those snide comments from across the pond about the quality of our teeth — I suddenly feel very proud of my country and its fraught-with-problems health service (a friend and I recently spent 7 hours in A&E). It may be inefficient, but it beats the horrors of health insurance. Just ask any American family on low income.

P.S. Isn’t it great? This is the first silly post on this blog in a long time.

Hey, we’re getting new coin designs!

This is only of interest because I tried to pay with a new 1p in a petrol station recently and the woman took one look at it and said, “I don’t know what this is” and gave it back to me. This struck me as funny because who cares, it’s only a penny.

Evidently, however, I do because I took the trouble to look this up and then blog about it. I can now get that sense of moral high ground. I was right! Mwa ha ha ha! She rejected a penny for nothing. Fools. Fooooools!

If you have some spare time today, leaf through a catalogue. (Or a catalog if you’re American).

Have a look at the photos of people. People really enjoying using their whiteboard, or their lawnmower, or whatever it is they’re using. They’re really happy, it’s like item 204598 has totally saved their life and brought joy into their otherwise miserable and pathetic day.

Hooray for item 204598!

That’s all for today, really. Today I’ve gone for item 462413, which is 10 pencils what used to be CDs . Also looking for a calculator. I’m torn between 566934 and 249306. Actually, folks, I’m totally lying to you. 566934 is clearly the better choice.

Leave your answer in the comments.

Just because, really.

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* Ths s tr, ctlly, lk t p.

What is your favourite object? One of my favourite objects is the humble pencil. To me they represent solidity, simplicity and serenity.

One day, pencils will take over the world. They are the only item of stationery that can withstand a nuclear blast and they can be used to slay dragons (should the need arise). If you’re ever stressed, get a pencil and just pick it up. *

What’s your favourite object and why?

* Made-up lies

Today as I dragged myself to work my mind wandered to the concept of national days. We have a national day for everything, it seems. Grandparents, back pain, breast cancer, the Queen’s birthday (twice). We even celebrate when the banks take a break — presumably these people must be so hard working that when they stop it’s so momentous an occasion that the nation pays its respects. (I must admit I have never found this to be the case: they’re never open when I’m free and they shut early on a Wednesday. To quote so many poor quality stand up comedians: “What’s that about?”)

Anyway, it occurred to me that we pause to remember all kinds of griefs in the calendar. World Wars, this tragedy, that tragedy etc. But we don’t pause to remember that most terrible form of grief that all of us experience.

I’m speaking, of course, about having to get out of bed in the morning. What an awful way to start the day! Who was it who decided that every single day of our entire lives (unless we are in a coma) would begin with getting out of bed. Surely, days should start with something wonderfully pleasant. What about sunrise, I hear you cry. Well they’re nice I suppose, but don’t you have to get out of bed to witness them?

So therefore I suppose national Mourning Morning. This would be where for the whole morning everyone sat around feeling sorry for themselves, rubbing their eyes, yawning and generally not being very productive. Sounds a lot like your average working day, doesn’t it? The only difference here would be that it would have a proper name (not just ‘laziness’) and it would be marked on people’s calendars. And the Prime Minister would make a speech or something.

“Today we remember the hard work and dedication of everyone who had to get out bed this morning. Bloody good show, the lot of you. I’m off to drink some brandy with the Queen and Prince Philip now, so … goodbye!”