Dating a dentist

I have been with my boyfriend, Ian, for almost 5 years now.

Every time I tell someone this, they automatically go ‘Awh, how cute.’ And, it is cute, but it’s not all fun and games.

This is mostly because he is a Dental Nurse, and spends an awful lot of time inspecting my teeth, even when I’m not expecting it.

The other day I was smiling at him, and he smiled back. I thought it was a sweet, romantic moment where he was happy that I was happy. But no, he was just happy because he could see that I flossed.

I also get ‘surprise trips’ after I asked if we could go on some adventures. On my day off last week he called me and asked me to go to his work for a check up. I asked when and he said ‘Now.’ Bearing in mind I was sat in my dressing gown dunking a Chunky into my tea, that was not what I meant by an adventure.

So, in I went. He even took a break so that he could use the saliva slurper on me.  When most girls say ‘he stuck it too far in and I choked’ they’re referring to something dirty. But not me, I literally mean he stuck a tube in my mouth and I have a terrible gag reflex. To be fair to him, that wasn’t his fault. He is good at his job, it’s just his job that’s not pleasant.

I hear so many horror stories, I’m surprised I’m not mentally scarred. Apparently, blood gets on the ceiling and he has to clean it after every patient.

I also know lots of long words like buccal and prochlorperazine. What do they mean? I have no idea but I know them.

I guess it’s not all bad. I get free toothpaste and I’ll always know when I need a filling. Who needs romance when you have private treatments at NHS prices?

Swimming, Assassinations and Ice Cream

So, I’m writing this in the back of Ian’s Dad’s car, which is good news as it means I haven’t pucked and been banned from it forever.

The south was great, and I discovered I’m a bad person because I desperately want Ian to inherite his grandparent’s house.

They have many rooms, a lovely garden (Though I couldn’t help but think ‘Oh god. The maintenence, it must take hours to cut. You can tell you’re an adult when thoughts like that cross your mind. But that’s a crises for another time.) And even their own swimming pool.

Ian has asked me politley not to kill them off, but I can’t call the assassins now, they won’t give me a refund.

I do think if I had my own pool I would be much healthier because I love swimming but hate public pools. It’s the only exercise I enjoy. But my generation is doomed to never buy houses, so I will be a poolless widow forever unless we inherite thiers. Ian won’t ask for it though. He still has a thing called pride, whereas I’m happy to grovel at their feet and tell them all the health benefits it will give me.

Whilst we swam, I asked Ian to take a photo of me on the whale. (Not real, you fools. Inflatable.) He had bought me a Little Mermaid bikini the day before and I have become obssessed with it. I asked him to take a nice, elegant photo of me. But instead he captured this monstrosity:

Thankfully, he had accidentally changed the video setting so it’s only a second long. I thank God for that every day.

Aside from swimming, we went into Brighton where I stuffed my face with sandwiches, ice cream and Shakeaway.
We walked through The Lanes and had a stroll along the beach.
There are only 2 big cities I would ever live in; Edinburgh or Brighton. Though the crowds at Brighton startled me a little bit.

Have you ever tried to eat a meatball sandwich gracefully, with the wind blowing your hair all over the place?

You can’t. It’s impossible.

So many people witnessed a stumpy ginger troll destroying a sandwich, leaving hot sauce on her forhead and chunks of meatball in her hair. Luckily Ian’s family had decided to stay home, and he already knows I’m a monster so it was fine.

Overall, it was a great getaway and even my attempted skin care got complimented.

What I mean by that, is that the day before I left, I mushed a banana up with oats and honey and smothered it on my face before placing cucumbers on my eyes. That was when Ian came home and found me laying on our bed with half of the breakfast aisle dripping from me.

I tried to explain that I’m too poor to buy facemasks but he didn’t understand.

The good news is my skin has been lovely and soft since so I totally reccommend it.

So that’s pretty much all I have to talk about this week. Now, please excuse me. I have assassins to tend to.

Why I avoid mornings.

Let’s kick this off with a story from 8am yesterday. I am not a morning person, but I still decided to get up early and do some chores before lecture. I hoovered, mopped, did the washing and…

I emerged from the flat hesitantly.

I could feel each tiny stone stick to my odd socks as I took a step, one foot at a time. I only had to make it around the corner to Ian’s work, but it seems like a trek up the Himalayas. I could feel the eyes of passing drivers burning into me, but I decided to hold my head high and pretend I was proud of the fact I locked myself out of my flat in nothing but a pair of shorts and a bra.

When I had heard the door click shut behind me, I just shrugged, sat down and told myself: ‘Okay, so this is my life now.’

I spent twenty minutes accepting my fate as a half-naked hobo before I came up with a plan.

I had gone outside to hang the washing up, so shoved a wet top over my head. It was still see-through, but at least I wouldn’t be arrested for public indecency.

This is the struggle I face, I make disasters happen every single day. It’s a miracle I’m still alive, I guess I have Ian to thank for that.

After what seemed like forever, I arrived at Ian’s work (and my dental practice.) I took a deep breath before I knocked on the door. I was hoping Ian would answer but instead I was greeted by the receptionist. She didn’t say anything. She just gave me the once over, sighed and yelled ‘Ian. Your girlfriend’s here.’

I heard him mutter ‘For fuck’s sake. She’s done it already. We’ve only lived there two days.’ But when he saw with my transparent top, odd socks and frankly revealing shorts, he couldn’t help but laugh.

He gave me his keys, and I went home, got changed, and hated myself throughout the whole of my lecture.