Warning: This post contains dentist stuff. Just so you know.
I spent some quality time at the dentist this morning, undergoing some exploratory drilling. Yeah. And you know, it's not the needles that bother me, or the drills, or even the indignity of having my mouth propped open for way too long.
It's the smell. That smell of burnt ... bone. Burnt ... tooth. Just ... ick.
Oh! And in other news, there is - wait for it - a FLOOD WATCH in effect for this area through tomorrow.
Holy Mary Mother of God, haven't we had ENOUGH, here? What are we, JOB or something? Jeez.
And! Yesterday I was filling out an application on line, and I proofread it carefully, and then printed it out to proof it again, because I'm a hard copy kind of gal, and I finally said okay and hit send, and then I noticed that ... I spelled my name wrong.
hahahahaha I am not even kidding you I SPELLED MY OWN NAME WRONG.
Bonehead, that's me. Burnt bonehead, this morning.
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Oh, and I forgot to mention, the dentist visit was "no charge" thanks to an ... earlier ... possible ... error ... on her part, so there's that.
Evidently I will let a dentist do anything to me, as long as it doesn't cost me any money.
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