As I lay in a chair at my dentist's office for more than three hours this morning, staring up at the ceiling, I had an epiphany of sorts. I decided that the meaning of life, really, is shared experiences. It was mildly comforting to consider that almost everyone, at one time or another, has had the exact same experience as I was having this morning.
I'm not a big fan of going to the dentist for routine procedures, like getting my teeth cleaned, so I sure as hell wasn't very excited about having a cracked molar repaired with a crown. Nonetheless, after breathing nitrous oxide for a couple of hours, I was pretty sure I had it all figured out . . . life, death and everything in between.
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