One of the many perks of having a bona fide job (rather than being a contractor) is having health and dental insurance again. I enjoy both discounts on birth control and my teeth feeling clean. Yesterday was my first time in a dentist chair in the past year. And let me just tell you, it took a hygienist who was extremely passionate about her job to make me realize how much I’ve let myself go over this past year.
I’ve never been high-maintenance by any standards: I’ve never laid in a tanning bed or had a manicure or a pedicure. But up until lately I’ve been able to keep my body maintained. I don’t know what’s changed: maybe I’m just getting too comfortable. But there are nights when I’m reading in bed and I know I’m about to fall asleep, but I’m too lazy to go brush my teeth and turn off the light. I’m lucky my leg hair is blond or I would be scaring off other pedestrians on our walks. My roots have outgrown my highlights. I don’t think I’ve painted my toenails since Hurricane Katrina.
I’ve gotten so run down that I can actually relate to Steve not trimming his toenails more than once a decade.
That’s rock bottom. I know it’s time for a change.
So today, I’m shaving. And flossing. And painting my toenails. And once I finish up on myself, I might just start in on Steve’s feet.