I Woke Up All Wrong Today

Okay, this is the thing: I woke up all wrong today.

I kept waking up in the middle of the night, and then I finally woke at 6:30 but decided to go back to bed.

Every time I do something like that, I get disturbing nightmares. 

I had a dream my dad was in a mental hospital, one that I was once actually in.

My father was the most mentally stable man I have ever met.

I was terrified.

I forced myself to wake up after this horrid dream sequence.  

So I’m annoyed in general, but as I was driving through the Starbucks window, it occurred to me not to forget something. 

I am happy right now. I have to remember that. It’s easy to forget. 

I’m also annoyed that I have to go to the godforsaken dentist. 

Ok, so I haven’t been to the dentist in a while. Again, it’s been long enough that you should be concerned.

I’m in the waiting room having random thoughts, like what if it started snowing in summer? In Michigan, where I live, the weather honestly could do such a thing.

I wonder if we would finally realize we’re destroying the planet if it snowed in June.

My father died in July, a year ago.

I wonder if it ever snows where he is.

I wonder where he is.

So I feel like I stepped into the future at the dentist's office, the X-ray gadgets are so high tech, they have a big screen TV for me to watch, and I can even log into Netflix. But I’m sitting here writing this before they clean my teeth. 

I’m a little nervous; I don’t like pain. I’m not one of those weirdos. I like to be comfortable, like all the time. 

Getting all up in my mouth is not ideal…

OK, whew, done with the cleaning. The pretty woman named Brianna put this sharp thing on my teeth and was scraping away. Not fun. 

I was chatting with her, the dental hygienist, and she told me she went to college to get this job. I was like, so is this what you want to do? Okay, I didn’t mean to sound like a bitch, but who in their right mind wants to clean strangers’ teeth for a living?

This is why I should not be allowed to interact with people before noon.

There are all these options in the world for professions, why would anyone choose this? I understand becoming a dentist a little more, because they make bank. But a hygienist?

The dentist came in and said that I have one tooth that needs a deep filling, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll need a root canal…kill me now.

He’s not even trained enough to do a root canal. What is his job exactly? He looked at my X-rays, looked at my teeth for a minute, and he couldn’t even do the deep filling today because he’s too busy. Busy doing what?  

Then I remember I’m incredibly lucky to even have dental insurance that covers a root canal. I’ve heard of people flying to other countries to get root canals because it’s so expensive in America.

I left there with my dentist's goody bag full of hygiene products. There’s this big campaign at the dentist’s office to floss, so I have decided to start flossing again. I feel like it’s a sign I’m actually trying to be an adult.

Then I go home to my mother. My mom is an amazing woman, and she’s also a little extra. 

As my gay friend once said, “Your mother is a national treasure!” And honestly, people love her, and of course, so do I. There’s a but coming, as you may have guessed. 

My mom is convinced I broke our printer/copier, and she thinks I’m technically savvy enough to fix it.

She’s not aware that printers were not designed to work. They were created by Hewlett-Packard and such to break down at the exact moment you need a copy of your taxes or something legally imperative.

She keeps asking me to fix the printer, and I look at her like she’s speaking Chinese when she’s actually speaking Punjabi. 

I pretend I don’t understand what she’s saying, because I don’t. I’m tech support around here, so you can imagine how bad things really are.

I can’t ‘fix’ anything in the house; that’s what my dad was for. Now that he’s gone, things are just broken.

Then my mom gives me some slack about the fact that I haven’t gone grocery shopping. I may have mentioned here in the past how much I abhor grocery shopping. She can’t go because she has a bad back and shoulders, and she can’t pick up things like milk. 

I almost feel guilty; I’m responsible for her having something to eat. She’s relying on my lazy ass to keep her alive.

Again with the adulting, dentist, broken electronics, grocery shopping, when does it end? 

Image courtesy of Roberto Lopez via Scopio

I decide instead of taking my responsibilities seriously, I will take a long drive in a wooded area to nowhere. I will drive by the lake and think about exactly nothing as I sing loudly to emotionally jarring music blasting in my car.

My real responsibility is to remain in a good place mentally, and I am, finally. The tiny inconsequential annoyances of life will not get me down. 

I think this as I’m driving past a white mansion, thinking about the person sitting in there. I wonder if they are happy. I want to tell them to please notice if they are. Please don’t just let it pass you by. Please, if you are not content, I’m sorry. Even with all your money, I understand, it’s hard. 

Money doesn’t buy happiness, but I feel like happiness can buy money.

Happiness is money; it’s the only real currency.  

nina 

A couple of friends and I started a podcast called 2 Curries and a Ranch. Listen here: https://2curriesandaranch.riverside.com/  or wherever you get your podcasts.

Imagine two loud, dramatic, hilarious Indian women explaining to a white man what it's like to grow up and live in America. Join us for laughter, deep thoughts, and witty banter about life, love and culture. We tell it like it is, with honest, bold and funny stories, discussions and arguments. We explore boundaries and challenge norms. Join us for a good talk.

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