March On

Let's just pretend February never happened.

It's the first day of March and even though it's a frosty morning here in the Emerald City, there was plenty of bird song. Sure, the birds were no doubt saying things like, "Leonard, we should never have closed up the summer house so early" and "What did I tell you, Shirley? What? Another week or two in Miami woulda killed you?" but there was bird song nonetheless. And there are also blooming things. Of course, that owes largely to our nearly dry and completely snow-free El Nino of a winter but things are blooming and they are carrying spring in all their little green cells.

My sails were slack in February. (It's a stupid month. The only things it has to recommend it are Groundhog Day and my sister Audrey Hepburn's birthday. That's not much to go on). I am glad to see the backside of it and even if you don't join me, I'm going to ignore it completely.

Disclaimer: There are people all over the world who are in a really bad way right now. There are people in my life who are dealing with very difficult and scary circumstances. There are people in serious pain and I am very sensible of that when I tell you: ow ow ow ow ow.

I have been experiencing hideous pain from a tooth. I haven't had a lot of physical pain in my life. I had kidney stones once and THAT was a killer. I actually did think I was dying. Worst. Pain. Ever. Even more than childbirth, which is also on my list. But a couple of other times I've had reallyreally bad toothaches. You go around, minding your own business, brushing and flossing religiously and taking your calcium and avoiding the gummi bears and doing all that other stuff you're supposed to do and then one day a tooth just randomly decides that you haven't suffered enough in life; you need a root canal. Which is likely what is going on right now.

I have a call in to my dentist and hopefully she will call first thing this morning and she will fix me up. Or she won't call and I will go down to her office and sit outside the door and whimper until she pays attention to me. Either way, I'd better be feeling better tomorrow or it'll get ugly. (Although, on Sling's recommendation, I was applying whiskey to the affected area with a Q-tip and it numbed the pain enough that I could sleep. For which I was extremely thankful. But I can't walk around with a flask of Crown Royal at work all day so something more substantial must be done. Still, that was really good advice).