Yeah, I totally pulled the root canal card yesterday afternoon.
Wait a minute, Rocky, you're saying. Didn't you just HAVE a root canal?
Why, yes, yes I did. And here's where things get squicky, so if you don't want to hear about dental stuff, turn away. I hear Pioneer Woman's got pics of a bassett hound up today. Oh wait, that's every day.
What I had done on the Monday after Thanksgiving, f*ck you very much tooth gods, was an emergency pulpotomy, where they pull the nerve to stop the pain. Unfortunately, that is not the total root canal package, as it were, so I had to go back yesterday morning for Step 2 of 4.
Over two hours in the chair. Granted, some of that was due to my glass jaw and having to take a break every fifteen minutes or so, but still, two hours of unspeakable dental shit is a long damn time.
Still all jacked up on novocaine, I made it back to the office, where I promptly informed my boss that I would be leaving early.
You know, it can be kind of risky taking time off in the week before Christmas, considering that we get our year-end bonuses on Christmas Eve, but hey. Sometimes a gal's gotta take that chance.
So I left early, went home, popped a Flexeril, and God only knows what happened after that, 'cause I was OUT.
Best decision I've made in a while.