Damn! What next?

The headcold that had me so miserable that I spent most of yesterday in bed, fitfully trying to sleep while intermittently sneezing and wiping a perpetually running nose with crappy, useless Sam’s Club bargain tissues, also kept me from getting to the post office  of making coffee yesterday.

Sometime between 3 a.m. and 6 a.m., it seemed to abate a little. Still sneezing, but not so much. Nose running, but not so much.

I felt guardedly optimistic.

Then, a few minutes ago, I took my first sip of a cup of hot & sour soup and discovered one of my crowns (#4 on the standard dental diagram) was adrift in my mouth.

Fuck!

I haven’t been to a dentist in a couple of years and, since Maria’s departure from the paper, have no dental coverage, so this won’t be cheap. I called the last dentist’s office that I visited and am booked for 9:20 a.m. Monday, presumably just to re-cement the crown. But we all know it won’t stop there.

Don’t we?

At least I shouldn’t be contagious by then.