Dentist

Every half year a colorful card falls on my doormat. It always lands so the merry image shows and the text is hidden. Whenever I pick up the little card, my happy surprise soon changes in abhorrence. Yes, the dentist check up.

Today was the set date. The dentist's office is about 200 meters from my house, so I leave at the latest possible moment. Armed with my book, chin up, eyes determined, I stepped into the room, where Anja, his (very nice and friendly) assistant was already waiting. Small talk, lots of small talk to divert the nerves.

"Marion, you may step through," the Man-In-White says with a smile. "Right," I mutter, and slide into the chair. Blue rubber gloves and special magnifying glasses that could easily be used as a super lens for a camera, suddenly appear in my visual. The comfortable chair changes with a soft buzzing into a miniature operating table. Horizontally stretched out, I obediently open my mouth in the sunny light of a huge lamp. Here we go.

Carefully he checks every tooth with hammer and drill... uhm I mean with a little mirror and hook. No matter what he does, I won't move a muscle. Tip: never give away if something hurts by grimacing, because then your fate is sealed. Left under inside, front, right under inside, back along the outside. Then up, up, up the teeth he goes. Meanwhile he's talking to Anja about another client. "Keep talking man," I think, "keep talking and don't mind me!".

Suddenly he stretches, nods and then tells me everything is fine. I can't believe my ears but won't take any chances on a sudden change of mind. Nimbly I hop from the chair, almost getting myself hooked around the arm rest. At safe distance from the dentist, my joking abilities suddenly return. Pfew, what a relief!

Safe for another six months...

Wee lil' thing

Ready to upload my new design to the server, I needed to do 'a wee lil' thing': set a password. Well, after succeeding in adding the password, the access to my database has flown out of the closed window.
Even a system recovery to yesterday's dates wasn't fixing the problem. Am at a loss for ideas right now.

Damn.

Evening at the uni

Thursday, it's Thursday. This means working 'till 9 PM at the Academy. Does that sound bad?

Well don't worry, actually it's quite nice! The kids like it 'cause that means it's pizza and fries night. The students like it because they can ask me silly, sweet and complicated questions. The professors like it too as they can also ask my advice.

Then how about me?

Soft music, being able to work in peace and quiet most times. Outside it's dark but inside the lamps envelop me with a clear light. Mails disappear as fingers fly over the keyboard. Sometimes all pieces of the puzzle come together in a brilliant idea, converting that idea to an Excel document. Yes, I love my Thursday evenings...

But it's even better when I finally come home and put my feet up.