If anyone knows Cheryl Wilburn, let her know I’m getting her emails. Thanks.

Shortly before the 2008 presidential election I began getting emails from the Obama campaign. At first I didn’t think it was too odd, since I was in favor of the Senator’s candidacy. But when I looked more closely, they were actually trying to send emails to Cheryl Wilburn. I can only assume her email is something like chwilburn@yahoo.com, just one letter different from my own.

I hope she hasn’t missed out on any of the events that have followed. Today the mailing list, which has now turned into “USA Service,” touted the president’s initiative to increase community service around the U.S. The new organization is also apparently on a first-name basis with recipients now, saying only “Dear Cheryl” and leaving off the last name. Nice to know they’re cozy like that.

According to the email, they are “grateful for the work you’ve done since the National Day of Service in January.” Make that the work Cheryl has apparently done since January. I hope her service isn’t dependent on getting pep talks and adulation in her inbox.

On a completely different note, it must suck to be a dentist. I went today and got the expected “you need to floss more.” Seriously, who actually flosses the correct amount?

That’s why it would be terrible to be a dentist. All day, every day, you’re seeing people who flat out ignore the instructions you give them when you meet one or two times a year. You think to yourself how simple a task flossing is, how little time it takes and how it is clearly good for each and every patient.

And yet nobody listens. I bet dentists have a higher number of kids than the national average, if only so they have someone under their roof they can MAKE floss as often as they feel is necessary. I’d also bet children of dentists are extremely unlikely to be dentists themselves, opting to work at ice cream shops and chocolatiers in disproportionate numbers.

On my way home from the dentist I stopped to get gas. At the pump next to me…a MetroAccess bus. They’re coming to get me.