I got *clean teeth*

Somehow, in my brain, that title is being sung to the Pointer Sister's "Steam Heat" melody line.
My teeth are spectacularly clean. They look fabulous, and feel even better. So I have to wear a retainer that makes me gag... bfd. It's worth it. They look good and I feel great. No more jawa cramping or painful nerve pain shooting behind my eye. It is all good.

I am over my bad-show-itis. Like an olde skin, I have shed it. Of course returning to my staid normalcy and work-a-4-day-week world helps oodles. It is good to be love-d. And you know what? My clients appreciate and love me. It floats my boat. I like feeling needed. I like working at something meaningful. (Even if I do dream about appraising at least once a week in full detail)
I also dream about being on stage at the Commodore Ballroom in Vancouver. Sometimes I even dream about being on Network television. Oh there it is. My guilty secret out.

It is a source of deep and lasting bliss to me that when Hollywood came a-calling, I had the sense to say no. I can still see the guy from Paramount Pictures in my mind. Not many people say no I suppose. If I had said yes, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind I would be deceased. Or worse: world-famous with a huge addiction problem.

I dream it though. Heh.
For today, my clean teeth are my everything.
It is well with my soul.