...and now I'm going back. To the dentist, that is.
It's been WAAAAAAAY too long. Years, frankly. I know. Bad, bad girl, suitable for flogging and beating for my negligence toward my teeth. (I KNOW, alright?)
All that ends in 7.25 hours, you'll be glad to know. Let the ass chewings from hygienist and dentist alike begin. Can't wait.
So Dr. G, here I come. Let me have it. Lay it on me, I can take it.
Why do I have the soundtrack of "Little Shop of Horrors" playing in my head?
Oy.
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1 comment:
Is it too late to wish you good luck, even though I already know how this whole thing turns out? No? I didn't think so.
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