I couldn't sleep at all last night. I tossed and turned and dreaded today for hours. Today is the horrific day that I must march right through the gates of hell and face the devil himself. Oh, we call him a dentist but those little cubicle rooms just hide the fire and brimstone we all know is there. Even worse than the dentist, are those perky little hygienists. I hate them. I know it's wrong to stereotype and judge character based on just a few, but I have never, ever met a hygienist I like. I mean no offense to all you cute little skinny blondes who studied for years just to have privilege of poking my gums until they bleed. I just don't understand how you can be so darn cheerful while causing such excruciating pain. And, by the way, saying things like "Well, it shouldn't hurt" or "If you would floss, this wouldn't be so bad" is not helpful. It always hurts and nobody flosses.
OK, I know I'm a big baby. I just have such a low tolerance for pain and suffering (especially when it's me suffering). Because of my obviously serious phobia, I rarely get up the nerve to go to the dentist. So, I'm looking at a good 2-3 hour appointment this afternoon. If I don't make it, I would like to leave all my worldly possessions to my family. All I ask is that y'all establish a foundation, self-help group or other non-profit in my name to assist those suffering from genetically bad teeth and an unrealistic fear of that scraper hook tool thingie.
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