Exhale.
Finally home from the dentist and doctor. I chose my dentist a thousand years ago because she's a woman (small hands). Her office used to be in the mall, which made me laugh. Before her I went to a dentist who did various things including cocaine, and was arrested for mail fraud when members of the Boston mafia who'd been moved by the Witness Relocation Program helped him by stealing his office things so that he could file an insurance claim. I didn't know WHAT he'd been up to in my mouth, so I... just didn't go. For 6 years. Then I started going to my current dentist, who is superb in every way. When I was briefly married my husband told me he'd once been on a blind date with my dentist. Then, when I got m.s. and was thrown out of the house, I kept my insurance going by paying for it at the newspaper (he was a reporter). One day I was at the dentist's office, and the staff came in peeing themselves with laughter, and showed me a letter that'd just arrived from my husband saying I had no insurance and was hoodwinking them due to my inate evilness. Last year I had an appointment on St Valentine's Day, and my mum died the day before. I had an appointment on my birthday, and my father's obituary came out that day. I went to Louise's memorial service yesterday. Is it the holidays, the dentist, or me? Anyway, now they are trying to get permission to replace a crown the cocaine-addicted dentist put in my mouth. They tried last year but were turned down. Today they took photographs and vowed to try again.

At the doctor's (a nice man), he burned a thing off my finger with liquid nitrogen (exciting! Remember the liquid nitrogen craze some years ago?), declared the thing on my arm benign, agreed to refer me to the liver doc, phoned in a prescription for a rosacea cream, and we talked about scooters.

Got a card in the mail today from Tiff who has already decided I'm going to live at her house if I do the hepC meds. I had said to her, "But you know what I'm like -- I like to be alone," the other day. When I was talking with AmyF yesterday we were talking about how we, like all introverts, can recharge only in solitude, and find people draining. When Samantha lived here I just about died from never-being-alone. And she wasn't intrusive. Once I drove her to a pow-wow an hour+ away because she was going to be gone overnight with friends. I'd just got home when someone dropped her off. I thought I'd shrivel. However -- we'll see. Maybe I won't do the drugs anyway. I'll jump off that bridge when I come to it.

I was thinking about AmyF and our conversation, and about how, for instance, I don't need to see my brother as our connection is outside time and space. We were saying we felt that way (AmyF and I) about friends. Then I started to wonder -- yes, I feel that way and presume that's how everyone is. But what if it is not that way for those who are extroverts? I have no idea, I'm just wondering.