My Awesome Mouth.

27 months into sobriety I'm still having a lot of "firsts". Today was my first trip to the dentist in a very, very long time. As could be expected, after 10 years of neglecting my overall health, the news was not great. I had anticipated some of the costs, but I expected that I would leave with a rosier picture than I did. The overall scenario amounts to a couple thousand dollars in proposed dental care- I haven't actually received the services yet.

While my teeth look pretty good from the outside, apparently they are like a nuclear waste site with lots of nefarious stuff happening below the surface. Judging from the stern talking to I just got from Dr. Sally (my childhood dentist), flossing should now be a higher priority than showering (which I also claim to do daily.)

I left the 8 AM morning exam a little dispirited because paying for this is not going to be easy. As a part -time student and part-time waiter I don't have $1,400 to spend on my teeth. But I really like my mouth. It's been a good mouth and it deserves better than it's gotten. So I will be committing to the dental work in the next few months and splitting the payments into three month installments.

Perhaps the funniest part of this new expense is the sacrifice I will make in the form of a dining room table. For about six months I have been shopping for the perfect new table for my house. As it is, I eat everything at a counter, a coffee table or outside if the weather is nice enough. I really enjoy cooking and I occasionally have somebody over for dinner and it's always a little awkward to bring a dinner date to the couch to eat something I just spent three hours cooking.

So, because my house is small, I searched high and low online for a perfectly shaped table with a drop-leaf that will fit nicely into the only area I have available for it. First, I found a lovely little three piece set for $250. I periodically checked in on it on Amazon and re-measured the space behind the couch where I plan on putting it to make sure it would fit. I was ready to pull the trigger when I went to Amazon and discovered it was no longer available. Amazon gave me a notice that read something like: THIS ITEM IS GONE, ASSHOLE. YOU SHOULD HAVE BOUGHT IT 3 MONTHS AGO. YOU WILL NEVER FIND ANOTHER TABLE LIKE IT. It was like losing the girl of my dreams. Okay, that's a little dramatic, but it was a drag.

Then I found a new table. It's less ideal than the first one, but it's also cheaper. I have been watching my budget and paying for some other, unforeseen expenses and I was planning on buying it next month. Now I'm paying for my mouth repairs so this will need to be put off again. I can hear you suggesting that I buy one at a thrift store and trust me, I've thought about it and I have my reasons for buying one new.

After I left the exam I ran into some friends and I chuckled about this whole scenario. One friend said "maybe you're just not meant to buy this table," which is a pretty standard, healthy attitude that you find in recovery circles. I certainly agree with the sentiment, but I'm really confused why God would rather have me eating off my lap in front of the television. Maybe God just wants me to continue eating dinner like the average American slob.

But my experience has shown me that when I take good care of myself, good things come along. The best indicator that a guy takes care of himself is the quality of his smile. Perhaps the lesson here is to pay the long, overdue dentist bill and forego the silly table for a few more months.

Okay, it's time for me to wrap this up and get back to Dr. Sally's office for some fillings. Hopefully she'll give me a cool toy if I sit real still and don't cry like I used to. If you need me later I'll be here on the couch eating a microwave dinner and watching Jerry Springer.