The dentist asked me how I was doing today, I told her I was at the dentist. It wasn’t all that bad. I listened to an audiobook and tried not to think about what RPM her dremel was hitting. I suspect it was pneumatic. That got me thinking about the mother of all compressors they must have in a sound proof room some place there. The gigantic steel cylinder smooshing all the air necessary to grind all those teeth.
Maybe they’re electric.
My binary suspicion of parents and people holds true. I’ve not seen much of an inbetween for parents that see parenthood as a drag, and those that see it as a sacred and magnificent opportunity. You tend to be one or the other and it says an awful lot about you, I think. My dentist was the latter.
Regardless of how much time I spend with a person, I much prefer they be the latter. Wether you’re cutting teeth or chief executive officer-ing you ought to think life’s worth living.
I feel the former sort of people, the ones that think parenting is mostly a drag that’s stolen from them their agency, don’t fundamentally think life is worth living. They might think pleasures are worth having, but that’s not the same thing as thinking life is worth living.
I struggle with it myself sometimes too, it’s normal.