Teeth. Dream.

I’ve heard my boss on the radio twice this week. I think he’s losing the PR battle.
Woke up earlier than usual to pick up Arwen at the oral surgeon. She had two wisdom teeth pulled. All morning, I wondered why we have wisdom teeth. I thought it was one of those evolutionary traits that would have died out if it wasn’t for modern medicine. All the people genetically predisposed to have problem wisdom teeth would die early deaths due to infection or malnutrition or some other related complication, and that genetic trait wouldn’t be passed on to the next generation. I brought up my puzzlement with Arwen in the cab on the way back to our neighborhood. She wasn’t under any sedation like we had figured she’d be. Wide awake through the whole deal. Mouth stuffed with gauze, she scribbled the explanation I needed on the back of her “instructions for care after tooth extraction” hand-out. It never occurred to me, but before dentists could handle problem wisdom teeth, we humans would lose teeth more often. Then, the wisdom teeth not only had room to grow in, but were a welcome addition to the mouth. Modern dentistry has made the wisdom tooth an unnecessary burden. I guess my hypothesis couldn’t have been more wrong.
It smells like spraypaint in here.
I had a really crazy dream this afternoon that involved a crime scene investigation in my dad’s house, a cross-dressing murderer, a bunch of little kids, my late cat, and a body buried in the back yard. Something loud happened on my street that woke me up before we could dig her up.