The irony is sickening

I broke a tooth today.
Can you believe that?
On the day I pretended to need a dentist so I could skive off work to play pitch-and-putt, I ended up having an emergency appointment after breaking my tooth on a Drifter. Who says my life is too complicated?
I told Philippa the news, expecting sympathy but getting a firm “Ha… Ha….. HA!”
Bitch.

Today has reminded me why I try not to tell lies. Firstly, because I’m not very good at it, and secondly because it is incredibly hard to cover yourself if it all goes wrong, and you end up creating increasingly elaborate stories that you then have to remember later so it doesn’t become obvious that you invented it all in the first place.
I got to work just before one, with the smell of a golf club still lingering on my hands, and mumbled at everyone, trying to do a convincing portrayal of the effects of anaesthetic. Then at afternoon break I stupidly grabbed a chocolate bar from the fridge and on the second bite - crack!.
So then I had to pretend that the work I’d had done in the morning hadn’t been done properly, so that I could ask for time off to go back to the dentist to ‘get it fixed again.’ Then I had to stop everyone else calling the dentist on my behalf to have a go at them for shoddy workmanship, then I had to find a reason not to call them myself from the office because it would have given the game away when I asked for an emergency appointment rather than asking for a re-visit on work that had already been done. I had to tell my colleagues there was a special number for emergencies which I had in my mobile phone, so I could nip off on my own and call them from outside.
Dear God, it was horrible. The stress of it all. I ended up with my heart beating out of my chest, sweat pouring down my face and my hands shaking, which made one of the other managers say “You’re going into shock. Delayed reaction from the treatment. If you die, I promise I’ll sue them on your behalf.”
I am never, ever lying to work again.
Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, I had to spend an hour in the waiting room at the dentist until he finished his afternoon appointments, only to then be told that he couldn’t do much to help me, and that I’d have to come back Monday to have a crown fitted.
In the meantime I have a ‘temporary filling’ which appears to be the end of a cotton bud attached to my molar by superglue. This country is falling apart, I tell you. Falling apart quicker than my teeth…

Pitch and putt was awful by the way. I took eight shots more than anyone else, and lost two balls in the wood on the 12th fairway.
What a day..

RC 15-7-11