"...the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune"

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I don't know why I bother. I really don't. Here am I, pouring my heart out, and all I get is you telling me there is no such word as "scrute". How can someone so tall be so shallow?

I am not surprised you can't find the word "scrute" - I invented it!  But it will be in the dictionary one day - just you see!

Honestly, how much more can a chap take! Blow upon blow falls upon this (slightly greying) head of mine.
The latest being: I telephoned the dental surgery to make an appointment for a check up, only to find that my lovely lady dentist has left the practice! Quelle Horreur ! I used to look forward to my regular visits. I could have let her do anything to me with her drill, probes and pincers. No more will I gaze up, from my prone position, into those liquid brown eyes above the mask; so tender, so caring.  And when she has finished, and I thank her, to hear her say, in that breathy voice "My pleasure". Who will  be pleasuring her now? I wonder.
I know what I shall do: I'll ask the receptionist can she tell me where Sarah Jane has gone. I shouldn't think it would be classified information. And then - if it's not too far - I shall follow. My gums ache for her.

I've read your list. A bit of fantasy there, I'm thinking. (#10 for example! I've never known you to ride a bicycle.)

Anyway, when are you coming to see me? I have to warn you that I may not be here. Things are getting on top of me (no jokes please) and I may do a runner. The Arabs have a saying: To run away is the bravest thing. And I think they are right.

Yours in limbo

George