Same old drill

Sloped up to London working on a poem, appositely enough, about commuting. I saw Lucinda, my dentist, who pronounced my gnashers in good nick after a quick x-ray and a bit of scraping. The x-ray took a mere 0.18 seconds, much shorter than the steady head fry of yore. Chatting to Lucinda afterwards I discovered she has been my dentist for 25 years, and as I have not needed anything other than a clean and polish for most of them I am entirely relaxed about my visits. But as she was about her business in my mouth, I couldn't help thinking of Matt, who told L and I about his dentist phobia recently, and arrives sweating with fear. Phobias are wretched things, as I well know having a bristling collection of my own. 

I had intended to be the very model of correct deportment in London after the dentist, but instead I returned to Brighton at the earliest opportunity, feeling wan, antisocial and in need of sleep. 

Luckily Lorraine perfectly happy to stay in tonight, and we had takeaways and watched TV and all was well. Betty also come home for an hour, before heading off again to see Adam, with whom she is officially 'in a relationship' and officially announced on Facebook and everything.

Heard from Carl, with the sad news that his brother had lost his wife recently. Luckily, however, he has started a new relationship with the lady from the undertakers, as Carl said, 'there is bouncing back, and there is bouncing back!'

Below L and I watched Lilyhammer, worth watching for Steve Van Zandt's expressions alone.