Reason No. 3,763 I Married the Perfect Man

The last few days have been chaos and stress and long trips and high stakes and all sorts of nonsense, most of which were marked by ridiculous... and I mean, RIDICULOUS...

(much like this dude's haircut)

RIDICULOUS amounts of pain because - I think, perhaps - my dentist is worthless.  So, stuck at the office Friday, trying to get out in time to photograph a wedding and get my files together for two days of depositions... I'm absolutely miserable with pain.  Homey calls my dentist, tries to badger them into an emergency appointment, and when he can't, he demands anti-biotics, drives to the pharmacy in Beaverton to get the drugs, then drives to my office in Portland to deliver them.  Then, using the stars as a guide, demands to know whether I have taken said drugs at each exact six hour interval.  And when the pain medications make me ill beyond belief, he takes care of everything else.

Love. That. Boy.