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*sigh*

Called into the endodontist today, and lo and behold, he actually called me back. I've got scrips for both antibiotics (because the gum was all swelly and gross) and uberhighstrength ibuprofen (which I wouldn't have wasted a copay on if I had been the one picking up what he called in, because there's nothing different from just taking two regular ones) that I've been choking (these are horsepills, I say) down since this afternoon.

Realized in church this evening that the tooth of doom, that which has been causing the agony requiring the aforementioned medicines, is cracked all the way through. I was remarking on how it was scary that it felt like when you have a loose tooth that's barely hanging on when I pushed it with my tongue and noticed that it actually was loose.

So, to the receptionist that blew me off twice and doesn't seem to understand the concept of neither pain nor emergency (3 weeks was the soonest appointment I could get--and originally she was trying to make me wait 5), the dentists that screwed it up in the first place, and everybody who just generally seems to assume that since I'm not a dentist, I don't know my own mouth?

Screw you.

I'm looking into finding a lawyer, assholes, since with this, the bills are going to skyrocket yet again for the extraction that I'm assuming is going to ensue (and all the previous ones are once again worth nothing, as the root canal has obviously failed).

I've got to convince my parents to go along with the lawyering up thing first, though. Since I'm on their insurance and they've been paying, idk if I've got sufficient cause to bring anything up by myself save stupid distress charges and such, which I don't really hold with. They were quite reticent at first, but when the final bill comes for the extraction and such, they'll come around, methinks. I get the feeling Mum's in if I'll set things up, especially since I showed them how we can consult with a couple people for free first.

(no subject)

I had a whole story on here from Friday and it didn't post. This is sad. Suffice it to say, I was pissed because I waited outside for the bus in 2F degree weather for 20 minutes before finally going back into the house after Mum called for us and found out that it had broken down and would be 10-20 more before it got there. And then it came in only 5, which didn't give me sufficient time to warm up. Plus, upon getting on said bus, it decided to honk loudly at all the stops at 7 in the bloody AM to get the people who, like me, had given up on waiting in this below-freezing weather. I hoped somebody called the police. I mean, I know it's not the driver's fault that the bus broke down, but how stupid do you have to be to honk at houses as you pass through a highly-uptight residential neighborhood when many people are still trying to sleep?

Dad and Tyler fixed the faucet in the bathroom last night, as something had died and it spurted water out where it connected with the basin every time you turned the water on more than a trickle. They turned the water off, put a new one on, and that was that. It's one of those with only one knob, though, and you've got to move the handle to one side or the other for hot or cold. Those are odd to me because I think this is the first we've ever had. Plus, it's uber sensitive, so you've only got to raise it a tiny bit for full-out waterage.

But yes. You thought it was over. Woke up and went to leave for Mock Trial, and there's water all down the street. I look closer--water main break. Right in front of the house. I lolol'd at how it happened right after they messed with the water for the house, though there's almost no way that could have caused it; the pipes prolly just froze. Anyway. Street buckled, the whole bit.

This is 9am or so, I leave, get to school, we go over scores from R1 of mock trial, I end up getting parts traded so I'm now a lawyer both rounds (like I mentioned before, bad in that I have to prepare lots more stuff, good in that I don't get antsy and pissed off at the lawyers when they're screwing up and I'm on the witness bench), I come back around noon and there's nothing happening. Still water spurting out. Dad called them only a bit after I noticed it, but since the spurtage couldn't be measured in feet (the watergeyserofdoom was only maybe 4 inches bubbling up), they didn't bother to show up until quite a bit later. I still parked way down the street so they could get there.

They did show up, finally, and fixed it. Eventually. But they brought the backhoe out and dug a huge hole in our yard to do so, which is now not a pretty sight. I was afraid they'd have to go way up in the yard and mess with Mum's garden, because then she'd be uberpissed, but it stayed right below it. And they had hoses and pumps and somehow managed to make it actually geyser up quite spectacularly, and it was quite loud for most of the afternoon. I had to make a phone call to the insurance company of the guy who hit my car two weeks ago or whenever that was (it's been all but resolved: I've got to call her back and tell her if I--read: my dad--want to use one of their listed/affiliated repair shops or take their estimated money and pay for it myself wherever I choose, and then have such done, and it'll be totally over), and I kept having to repeat things. Not cool.

Seriously, though, this hole? Hufuckingmungous. I took a picture; I'll have to find the camera cord to upload it. It's from out the window, so you can't quite see how deep it is, but you can see the guy leaning over it and talking. He's talking because there's a man in the hole, but his head's about 2.5 feet below the ground, so you can't see him at all. That makes this an 8.5ish feet deep hole. And decently wide, too. Large, I say.

Twas fixed when we got back from church, though the hole's just been dumped full of dirt and is lumpy and gross. They say they'll come back and fix it up, but in 8-10 weeks because the dirt's got to settle or whatever.

And then I went to the gym, went by Big Lots to see if they had any more of the 100-calorie Wheat Thin packs that I stupidly only grabbed one of that afternoon when I went there with Dad (unfortunately, no), stopped by the farmer's market because I really wanted some pears (but they're so unripe that I won't be able to have them for a few days, sadly), came home from the gym and had a really good, really big salad for dinner. And that's my story.