Ok, I have a joke.
A guy walks into a bar and pulls a tiny grand piano out of his pocket. Then he pulls out a little guy who sits down and begins to play….
Hey! I finally tried that casserole recipe for dinner last night. It was….
Oh my gosh. You know that most fantastic tool of modern dentistry, the gas?….
So that casserole was FAN-tastic! Like, the best so far!
Well, I am the world’s biggest fan of the dental gas. I ask for it as I’m walking back with the assistant. As in, those folks ain’t touching anything in my mouth without it.
Ok, anyone lost yet? Well, relax. That’s over.
For those that don’t know, I have undiagnosed ADHD. As in, I don’t bother to go to a doctor and get medication because I just think of it as part of who I am. It doesn’t bother me.
Anyway, the other day at work I woke up from one of my zoned out “fogs” where I kind of auto-pilot and I thought, ‘How can you explain that experience to someone?’ Well, the best idea I had was to do it in conversational form! That craziness above is pretty much what happens in my head on a regular basis.
I came out of this “fog” and I’m in the middle of something I hadn’t even planned on doing and the thing I’d planned on starting hadn’t been touched. I’m thinking, ‘What the heck just happened here?’, so I kind of scan back through my mind and basically I had begun two tasks – neither of which were completed – and the original task was completely untouched. haha! I told a friend if people watched me they’d have to be convinced I was on some mind-altering drug.
I just kind of thought it was funny and wanted to share. For those who were biting their nails in anticipation for the rest of that joke:
Here you go – all of it:
A guy walks into a bar and pulls a tiny grand piano out of his pocket. Then he pulls out a little guy who sits down and begins to play. “Where’d ya get that?” the bartender asks.
“I have a magic bottle. You rub it, you get a wish,” the customer replies. The customer then agrees to let the bartender give it a try and pulls out a grungy, old whiskey bottle. The bartender rubs it and the bar fills with ducks, flying everywhere.
“Hey! I didn’t wish for a million ducks!” the bartender protests.
“So you think I wished for a ten-inch pianist?”
And this is the kind of stuff I do when left unattended while high on dental gas: