I blame this whole bad week on the dentist. Everything that happened started with his words, “I don’t like how this looks.” I wanted to tell him that I didn’t particularly like how “this” felt every time he shot another blast of air into the throbbing tooth. “Root Canal. Crown. It’s the only way.” He said it like it was no big thing. I wasn’t concerned about the “pain”, I have already had two or three so knew the drill. No, I was afraid of the answer to my question, “So, how much, more or less (I like to think positively — or did then), is this thing going to cost.” He got a serious look on his face and did some phony mental calculations, then answered, “About $3,000.” He said it like it was $1.52. Three-Thousand-Dollars. I told him that that was three months’ rent. He shrugged. Then shook his head at me and said, omniously, “You’ll lose the tooth if you don’t do it.” Did he smirk when he said that? So here were my choices: either, Door Number One, tapping into savings that are meant for my senior-senior years or, Door Number Two, going around with a gaping hole in my jaw for the REST OF MY LIFE. I didn’t need the audience’s input. I knew what I had to do. To ensure my return, he put a temporary filling good for three months in the tooth — and charged me for a real one. The receptionist gave me a Tim Horton’s gift card good for one cup of tea as my consolation prize.
That was the beginning.
Two days later I had food poisoning from an innocent looking little piece of organic salmon purchased at the local food market. I knew I shouldn’t have bought it when the young clerk said that the cooler was broken and he was moving all the fish to the other one. I didn’t ask how long the cooler was down, no, that would have made too much sense. Did I subconsciously want more fodder for my negative week? Did I want to spend the next three days with stomach cramps, nausea and being able to eat only the BRAT diet (bananas, rice, applesauce and toast)??? Negativity begatting more negativity?
As I moaned and suffered on the sofa, I pulled my copy of Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day off the shelf. A good choice, I thought, to accompany my self pity and my “why me” recovery. Then I remembered how I had gotten this book. My friend, Mary, frequenter of thrift stores and yard sales, had brought it over one day. I thought it was her way of commiserating with me about the pains I was going through of trying to finish a university degree on the weekends and working full-time, overtime and then some for lawyers to pay for the whole thing. But it was really a precurser to her call a couple of days later. She said only, “‘Our friendship is in jeopardy’ Click.” I think she wanted me to know that my terrible, horrible, not so good life, could get worse if you add a good dollop of guilt. I put the book back on the shelf and watched Dr. Oz instead.
As the week limped to a close, my new student who was to begin on Wednesday said “oh so sorry but I won’t be taking your class”. I should know by now never, ever to count on income until it’s in my hand. So I brought that disappointment upon myself as well. And then, today, after dragging my mildly hungover self out of bed at 6:30 a.m., the regular instructor didn’t show up for aquafit and I was stuck with a boring instructor, doing boring stuff for the whole boring hour. It brought out a rude, obnoxious side of me that reminded me a lot of the women in the Saturday class who I find rude and obnoxious.
It was too much. Over breakfast afterwards, with my positive-social-media-guru friend, Sarah, I pledged that starting tomorrow I, Annie Eyerman, will follow the advice that I give so passionately to clients struggling with trying to find a job:
First of all, you have to Keep a Positive Attitude! Positive Attracts Positive.
And, secondly, and most importantly, Always, Always, ALWAYS, stay on the bright side of life. (Thank you Monty Python.)
So, therefore, I am hereby, right here on the page, declaring my own version of a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week to a close. Amen.