Thursday, 29 September 2011

Sad Trombone

Where Are You Going... by foundimagination
I always get disappointed when the dentist tells me I have a cavity.

Like yesterday.

It always makes me feel like I didn't do a good enough job of whatever it was I was supposed to do.

But I guess it also guiltily reminds me of those occasional times where I just kind of (excuse the pun...or not, if you think it's a good one) brushed it off.

I don't mean this post to be about my dental hygiene, because my dental hygiene is pretty good.

And I don't know enough about teeth and mouths (I really want to type "moutheses" because it seems like that should be the plural somehow...or maybe "mithes?"... oh man, I'm getting sidetracked, aren't I?) to know if some of us are more cavity prone due to whatever or if my candy intake is such that I'm more cavity prone.

But whatever the case, I'm always bummed when they tell me I have a cavity.

Not to mention, I don't look forward to the freezing.

Knowing that you can't just have a cavity and feel bad about it, but that you have to go in and get all that not so nice stuff done to "fix" it makes the bummed out feeling a gazillion times worse.

All this to say, I have a cavity, and I'm getting it filled this afternoon.

So I'm pouting.

The end.


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