Hating on Dentists and Other Stuff

Last year the dentist told me "you may need a root canal," and I said "need or do? because that's different ..."

And I walked out without one.

Yesterday I was not so lucky.

"Yup, root canal," the jolly dentist said. And without even pausing for a "ughnonoidontwantone!" he started drilling.

And now I have a hole in my tooth with a temporary filling until they can slap another one on there. Meanwhile, the temp one was so sharp it has cut up my tongue and, after filling it down myself last night with a little tiny nail file so that I could swallow at all (my family has a long and glorious tradition of self-dentistry, starting when father sanded down his own tooth and followed by him super gluing it back on another time), I went to the dentist and had them do it for me.

Mmmk.

Meanwhile, I'm really tired all of the sudden, so I'm going to stop writing this now. But tomorrow you may expect:

-- A riveting list of some of my favorite things
-- How I will systematically take over the world (starting with the coffee shop, obviously)
-- Thoughts on my impending doom ... er ... trip to Ohio