Yesterday by the time I got to work in the morning I'd decided:

Jenkins needs to go to the vet.
I need to go to the dentist.
My car needs to go to the garage.

Well, Jenkins decided today that he desperately wanted some drugs and I got a message to say Spouse was taking him to the vet this morning. Cue a sudden rush home from work.

Now he's all drugged up (and he'll be fine. Possible gut stasis caught very, very early!) but my tooth fucking kills.

If my car could just get through to Christmas, I'd really appreciate it!

Glad I bought a shit ton of Christmas chocolate now...