Am I mad?

I had a dentist appointment today. A dentist appointment that was scheduled in November to fix a crown that the Mafia Dentist had installed wrong. I had this crown put on in order to avoid having a root canal because the last time I had one I told him that child birth was less painful.
Now I am kind of a wuss when it comes to all things dental. I am ok with teeth cleaning, but anytime they come at me with that drill I get a bit nervous. In order to circumvent any pain the Mafia Dentist perscribed some Diazapan (with 3 refills, thank you) to chill me out for this procedure. I took two and floated to the dentist's office where he shot my mouth full of novicane and all kinds of blocks and all sorts of other stuff that kind of hurt. When I was good an numb he drilled the crown off and realized that because the crown was not on correctly in the first place the tooth underneath needed a root canal.
Fuck.
Have you ever had one of these? They drill out a huge hole in your tooth and take little files starting as small as a thread adn scrape out the nerves in your tooth. The files slowly get bigger so that all the nerves are good and gone. The last one was the same size as the stud I used to wear through my tounge. Despite all the blocks and the needle into my soft palate it still hurt. A lot.
I survived and made it to the desk as I was leaving where of course they have to add insult onto injury and I had to cough up $450. So I leave and call my mom who was stuck with the kids for my "hour long" appointment that lasted 2 hours, then I call Tim who asks me if the root canal was "really necessary" because $450 is more than he "wanted to spend" on me going to the dentist. The conversation went down hill and ended with him yelling and me hanging up.
By the time I got home the novicane was wearing off and it was starting to hurt. I took some motrin and got ready to do bedtime with the girls bcause Tim was working late. I limped through stories with Abby with my mouth in excrutiating pain, but finally got her to bed and the motrin had kicked in. While I was on the phone with a friend Tim called but i didn't answer (friend was whining about a broken heart-not a good time to click over). So I get off the phone adn call him back and where is he?
Tony, any ideas? It is Thursday night....
He is at Flight. This stupid bar he and his dad have turned into the Mafia hang out on Thursday nights. He never worked late, he went there right after work to meet up with them, adn has no idea when he will be home. I asked him if he got his work done, and his answer was "I am working late tomorrow". Who works late on a Friday night? The worst part is that i would not be at all irritated if he had said to me when I talked to him earlier that his palns were to go to Flight.
So let me ask you this...who am I mad at? The dentist for giving me a root canal? His secretary for charging me incorrectly (this problem has already been rectified)? Tim for telling em he was working late then going out drinking?
Or do I have to take one for the team and not be mad at anyone?