Sand Blocks, Body Dysmorphia and Mick Jagger?

I went to the dentist the other day. Had to have a cleaning and checkup and was a bit concerned about my two front teeth getting in the way of my lip and bottom teeth and possibly causing problems in the future. Due to unforeseen circumstances that escalated throughout my adult life, I had to have a crown and veneer placed on my two front teeth. Problem was not completely solved because I was starting to feel a bit like a rabbit. So, when one starts to feel slightly below human realm, we tend to sniff around a bit and find the cure.
I have a love hate relationship with my dental family only because I think that they hate me. I bring all the kids in for an appointment on the wrong day, I only pay around ten dollars at a time on the bill, and I ask too many questions. "What, when, where and why? Who and how? How much?"
I proceed with my appointment and had a very thorough cleaning. I was in pain due to the scraping. She even asked if I wanted to participate in her Mary Kay rituals. Huh? I was eventually sent to the next room where the conversation began about the size of my teeth. Everyone said they were fine, best looking fake teeth on this side of town. Most fake teeth are opaque and Chiclets, but mine were glossy and long. Long? "They fit your face. You have a long face. They are perfect." I also had a compliment on the color of my "natural" teeth and they asked if they were bleached prior to having the veneers done. Nope. I think they might have been trying to tell me something. Do not change a good thing?
My dentist talks in symbols when trying to explain the fundamentals of the way our teeth work. I am going to try and explain in a paraphrase sort of way with quotes. "If I were to file them down, there may be a chance you would not be able to bite correctly on a sandwich. See, take a sandwich for example, and a sand block and when those two are adjacent and 360 degrees sideways, when they come together, they reach an agreement with one another on what would be more appropriate to bite on, a sandwich or a sand block, etc..." I nod my head and completely agree with him. What the hell is he talking about? These are the scenarios I get from him every time. I love him! He files my teeth. "If you do not like them now, that is on you."
I look in the dentist's mirror and shout out "Perfect."
While I am driving, I keep smiling. What a difference 1mm makes. I am looking up into my brain and seeing a vision of my dentist pointing his finger at me reminiscent of the Santa and elf in A Christmas Story. He yells in slow motion "Itttssss oooonnnnn yyyyoooouuu." His foot is pushing me out his door into the cold snowy winter with nothing but a car and a big fat silver mirror. Now my mind starts to play tricks on me. Should I have kept them long? Are they too short, too crooked, bla bla bla. Made me think about how people perceive themselves and what makes certain individuals, like Heidi Montag, want to change their appearance so drastically. Do I have body dysmorphia? Will I never be happy with my teeth? Did I go to the dentist looking like Roger Rabbit and coming back looking like Mick Jagger? I don't know, but I am happy with them.