Rooted, I used to think.

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Friday, Feb. 27, 2009 @ 5:49 pm

I finally caved in and found a dentist in Victoria. It had been far too long since I last had a cleaning.

Anyhow, I prowled the doctor review website and wrote down the contact info for any doctor with all or mostly 5/5 reviews. I called up several and asked a series of questions, eventually calling back the very first one.

Anyhow, I had a cleaning last week, and I finally saw the dentist today. The reviews said that he was 'young', which I took to mean, you know, 35-ish. Well, he sure was young. Not an eye crease to be found. Full hair, shining eyes... either he's spent his whole childhood indoors, or else he's no more than 26 years old!

I've gotten used to being served in clothing stores, grocery stores, and restaurants by people younger than me. But a medical professional? Wow. I suddenly felt unaccomplished.

I sort of joked about being a student at my age, nearly a 'career student', but in reality I was incredibly jealous and in awe of the man who was poking around in my mouth.

I did feel a little better, though, when he praised the strength of my fluoridated teeth. At least I've got that going for me.

Roots | Shoots