Caterwauling

Wednesdays aren’t necessarily my favorite day at Ye Humble Employment Establishment. They’re not bad, but if I have to choose which day never goes according to plan, this has got to be it.

I’ve oft joked that I’d rather have a root canal than deal with my Wednesdays. And today, after visiting my new dentist and him promptly sending me across town with an X-ray and a referral to visit ANOTHER dentist, well, I got my wish — A FUCKING ROOT CANAL!!!

My second dentist (who was HAWTTT!!!!) had said how most people would rather be at work than seeing him. I said nope, not me — I’ve always posited that I’d rather be root-canalled than do my Wednesday work, and it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. And guess what? The dental work HURT LESS! HAH!

Of course, now trying to catch up on my work after my oral adventure is a pain in the ass, but trust me, I’ve had worse days!

(And no, D., this dentist wouldn’t let me be on top. Although visions of it kept me from screaming in my not-altogether-numbed state!)

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