If I had a hammer

Is there anything more rude, more cruel than the Tuesday morning after a holiday weekend?
It's not as if you want more weekend. You're ready to go back to normal life. You just don't want normal life to feel this bad.

But I aced their damn gum test

What is it about going to the dentist that makes you feel like a little kid? Sitting in that chair at the mercy of the hygenist, you find yourself inquiring about the flavor options for the polish and angling for the cool toothbrush. And you'd never ask for it, but you long for one of those tooth stickers. So it should be no surprise that when the dentist tells you that you have a cavity,* you instantly feel shamed. You adopt a concerned, puzzled expression, but inside you feel as if she wrote your name on the board.

And then they slap you with the bill! What, fillings aren't free? But I wanted that $62 for shoes!

*OK, cavities.

Biological clock on snooze

Signs that I am not ready to have children:
1. Can't bear to give up the guest room or office for a nursery.
2. When asked if I want to hold co-worker's new baby, say no.
3. Haven't made sufficient progress on learn-to-eat-fish plan.
4. Can't imagine using formula, can't imagine having thing feed off my boob.
5. Stretch marks don't seem worth it.
6. Feel tired enough as it is.
7. Worry that I would neglect cats.
8. At baby shower, don't feel need to rub baby clothes on my cheek like others do.
9. Always ready to wave "bye-bye!" after an hour.
10. Have yet to change a diaper and want to keep that record going.

Nose, cast

Well my worst fears are realized--I have the nose cast--and of course it's really not that bad. Kind of reassuring, actually, to have some hard plastic separating my tender nose from the world. (Take-home instructions this time include the helpful "Do not bump nose.") And before I know it (Monday) it will be gone. Hurrah. And I will dispose of it properly, not leave it around the house for people to step on.

And what a bully day to be off from work! Gorgeous sun to take a walk in like a woman of leisure, sipping iced latte and browsing at the garden market. Soft breezes to sleep on the porch in, flanked by snoozing cats.

Just mind the sun. A nose cast suntan would not be hot.