Mummyfried

 Since February, I have been strutting into a fabulous office, to do a fabulous job, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to conquer the day at this incredible award winning genuinely professional communications agency.  And let me tell you, this place is like the Olympics of professionalism—energetic, dedicated, and responsive, just like yours truly. Let's talk about the boss lady. She's like the superhero version of who I want be when I grow up—smart, hilarious, down-to-earth, and has enough energy to power a small city.  An inspirational leader (who is younger than me, but let's leave that alone). I'm not exactly living that glamorous life. I'm a single mom to two not so tiny terrors who make mornings feel like a battlefield. Getting my moody teen out of bed is like trying to convince a bear to do ballet. And then there's the epic showdown of getting dressed, where I'm basically the ringmaster in a circus of chaos. Meanwhile, the 11 year old baby is wa

I am gearing up for some impending dental drama next week. I am facing the reality of not one but five fillings and cannot help but feel fear. Plain, clear, unmanageable fear.  The search for an appropriate dentist is harder than finding a 50-something single, unscarred man. Unlike dating, (where you just don't have to do it), I have to continue with dental treatment, all the while trying to find the one. THE ONE PERFECT DENTIST. The appointments next week are mercifully broken into two sessions. The urgent fixes followed by the not so urgent. In preparation for next week, I came clean with my dental phobia. The poor dentist allocated to me is now privy to my irrational fear of dental work, a revelation that will earn me a starring role in daily water-cooler conversations. Back in the day, before my move to Greece, I used to frequent a dentist who specialised in treating children. He had two adult patients. Mummyfried, any dentist's dream patient - and my friend who referred me