So I went to see my dentist and whenever I go see him, I think about the time he met me at his office two nights before Christmas Eve to put my crown on and I love him for that. Just love him. We discussed the bridge vs implant thing. He said, "Look- the bridge is a Mercedes. The implant is a Maserati."
For the cost difference, I think I'll go for the damn Maserati. He said, "It'll last at least twenty years."
I said, "I'm sixty. That'll do me for sure."
Which is sort of awesome. Hell, I have enough make-up to last for the rest of my life. This is comforting somehow. I mean, I'm still buying green bananas but there are some things I can buy now which I will never have to buy again.
Obviously not a kitchen rug.
After I went to the dentist I did a little more rug shopping. Either (a) I am the pickiest person in the world, or (b) I am not going to the right places, or (c) they make sucky rugs.
I ended up at a Goodwill. No kitchen rugs but I did buy a Ralph Lauren red silk velvet shirt for six bucks.
I also found a purse. Not at Goodwill. At the TJ Maxx. For those of you who do not know, I have a serious purse addiction. It's been quite in check for a good long time and I haven't bought a new one in a year. I shop. I touch. I pinch. I sniff the fine leather. I moan a little, very quietly so as not to draw attention to myself. But nothing has really tempted me in quite a while until...today.
Shit. That purse made me weak in the knees. It made my nether parts tingle. It was very plain leather, a little hippie, a lot Italian, the perfect size, lined in RED, and it was marked down to...one hundred and five bucks.
After careful examination (some might call it fondling) I realized that the zipper on the side pocket was missing the pull thing. Which is no doubt why it was marked down. I told myself- You see! It is imperfect! and I forced my hand to place it back on the hook.
Sob. Sob. Sob.
And obviously, I am still thinking about it.
I believe I have a womb thing. I love bags, baskets, and bowls. And pockets. Things you can carry other things in. Things that hold things. Herbs, dough, eggs, babies, wallets, pens, fruit. Always have. Probably always will.
And dammit, that purse, like the implant, would last me the rest of my life.
Ten years ago, I would have bought that thing. I don't know why I am so loathe to spend money now. Another one of my neurotic behaviors. One I wish my husband would appreciate a little tiny bit more. (Says the woman who's about to get a dental procedure that costs more than some people pay for cars.)
Jessie will be here in less than two hours. I finally got the kitchen mopped. I just told Mr. Moon about the implant decision. I don't think he's thrilled. I should probably not bring up the purse, right?
It's been raining. It's nice. Clean sheets tonight, my baby will be home.
Life is fine. I am fine. Dinner will be fine if I get off my ass and make it.
I hope you're fine too. I truly do.