My dental appointment was at 9:30.
I was in the clinic by about 9:20. I was early because I like to be early. Even though I know that doctors (including dental surgeons) are often late.
Their lives are not necessarily easy. My previous GP, who was just starting his private practice then, works many hours, and has few days off. Maybe he’s a workaholic (like PL), or maybe he just needs to pay off a lot of debt. I hear medical school is expensive.
All I know is, his life does not seem easy to me.
Dental surgeons (or dentist as I call them) are probably not much better. At least until they are settled in their practice. Or careers.
So my dentist isn’t usually tardy. But his first appointment is usually at 9:30. And he is not usually more than 15 minutes late. In fact if he were 15 minutes late, it would be rather unusual.
And he doesn’t make appointments earlier than 9:30.
“Let the dead bury the dead,” says Jesus.
So let me bury myself when I’m dead. Or before.
But first, Swedish Death Cleaning.
In Swedish, the word is “dostadning” and it refers to the act of slowly and steadily decluttering as the years go by, ideally beginning in your fifties (or at any point in life) and going until the day you kick the bucket. The ultimate purpose of death cleaning is to minimize the amount of stuff, especially meaningless clutter, that you leave behind for others to deal with.
I think we all leave meaningless (or personal) clutter that you leave behind for others to deal with.
Z just discovered pizza.
Or rather, she has discovered that she can enjoy pizza as pizza.
We had given her pizza before. She ate the crust because she’s a “purist” and does not like her food to be mixed. So bread is good. Crust is bread. Without any of “contaminants” like tomato paste, or sauce, or cheese, or any other toppings.
But recently, her childcare centre (or “school” to her) had a Children’s Day celebration, and they had a slumber party and they had pizza.
She was very taken by Pizza or the concept of Pizza, and was making “pizza” with the magnetic tiles (toy) that we have.
And she told PL that she wanted to make Pizza.
And PL told her, I could make pizza, so I could teach her.
Some time in the last few months, ANZ “sold” it’s local business to DBS.
And by “sold it’s business” I mean they euphemistically “transferred their customers” to DBS.
I have only one link to ANZ – a credit card. I don’t remember when I got the card. Probably within the last 5 years. I was at the time shedding all my extra credit cards. I had terminated my Bank of China card some time back. And my Citibank and OCBC credit cards. It was part of my “thin my wallet” project.
Then ANZ came along, and offered me lifelong no-fee card. The annual fees and the need to beg for the fees to be waived every year was irksome and another reason I was shedding cards. I do not need things to irk me.
Z attended a show “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” with her Nursery Class.
PL was concerned Z might be frightened of the dark theatre. We had brought her to a show before, and it was dark and she was not happy, and we left before the show started when she cried.
So PL warned the teacher, Miss A that Z might get upset. And so Miss A kept an eye out for her.
When Z came back that evening PL asked Z if she enjoyed the show, and if she cried.
Z said she did not cry, but that Miss A cried.
My Citibanker called a few weeks ago.
I did not know I had one.
Business is bad, he did not say. So in addition to the High Net Worth Individuals (HNWI) or “Privileged” Customers, they have decided to go down market to the Not-so-high-net-worth idiots who might have some money to invest (NSHNWIWMHSMTI).
I am a “Priority” customer.
I belong to a category.
It’s nice to belong somewhere.
But hey, I’m not going to dis the banker. If I didn’t want to talk to them, I didn’t have to.
But I wanted to, cos it’s about time, and I have been making plans. Or thinking about it. Which is sort of the same right?