I get high with a little help from my dentist. The novocaine is a nice, gentle high--but I don't dare go to work afterwards. Every thought that floats through my mind comes out of my mouth--and at work I have to guard what I say and monitor my opinions.

But at home with Jasmine and the cats, let the good times roll, baby. I'm feeling no pain--literally.

I really like my dentist, too. Gentle, patient and a great sense of humor. Totally painless, except for the excruciating experience of having to keep my mouth stretched open for an hour. Did you know that "excruciating" has crux for a root word, meaning cross, as in crucifixion? Or that cras in Latin means "tomorrow" as in procrastination? I have a mind like flypaper--everything sticks to it.

Told you I was high. And I've taken a vicodin, so I shall sleep tonight (as opposed to last night, during which I spent a large portion of time reassuring a terrified dog during a thunderstorm). On my way to work this morning as I was eastbound on Roscoe Boulevard, there was a huge strike of forked lightning right in front of me. I have to admit I startled, even though I know I'm driving a faraday cage and won't be in danger. Some atavistic fears are not to be denied.

I think I should sign off now before I make a total ass of myself. Wheeeeeee!