Divine Intervention

I left work in the middle of the day yesterday so I could go to the dentist. It is a fact universally acknowledged that I have the nicest dentist in the entire world, and even though I was seeing his partner (an equally nice, much younger and hotter dentist) I should have been relaxed and calm and hell, happy to be away from the office on such a beautiful day.

But I wasn't.

Instead I was freaking out. Because going to the dentist? No. Just NO. I hate it. It scares the hell out of me. Maybe it's because despite diligent daily brushing and flossing the dentist once likened my tooth enamel to swiss cheese. Or maybe it's because the last time I was there they told me I had to have a $1200 root canal even though I had no dental insurance. Woo-boy was that fun! Take my advice and give your dental insurance card a long embrace right now, then buy it dinner at your favorite little Italian place and surprise it with pearl earrings because, believe me, you don't take enough time to show that dental insurance card you love it more than life itself.

Anyway, the closer I got to the dentist's office the more I started to freak out and convince myself that the dull throb in the back of my mouth was much worse than a cavity and probably needed a root canal (to go with the three I've had previously). By the time I pulled into the parking lot I had diagnosed myself with tooth cancer and who cares if that's something I made up in my head because OMG I have tooth cancer! I was about to back out of my parking space, head back to my office, and live with the pain of the toothache for the rest of my natural life but do you know what happened?

Don't Stop Believin' by Journey came on the radio. My most favoritest song ever. My theme song for life.

Now I'm not a religious person, but at that moment it was as if God had pulled open the passenger-side door, sat down next to me, and said, Dude, you have got to calm the fuck down. For reals.

It was pretty awesome.