I hate going to the dentist. No, I mean I really, really HATE going to the dentist. Like, I get freaked out from the moment I enter the building until my feet hit the sidewalk on the way home. And please don’t let me me actually need to have something more than a quick cleaning done… Oh uh-uh, more times than I care to share, tears have rolled down my face in that godforsaken office.
DEAD FISH EYES.
And I understand that I should be used to it by now but no matter how hard I try and psyche myself into thinking it’s no big deal, I can’t relax. I just don’t like anyone scraping, scratching and lasering all up in my mouth. Cause not for nothing but the minute they mess up, I gotta walk around a shitty wreck for the next week or so. And I don’t care how apologetic they are, there’s NOTHING worse than when your teeth hurt. You can’t eat, sleep, hear, or even think without being in pain! Sigh.
Okay, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest. I guess I’ll call this chick back and make my appointment. Dammit.