Let me start with
"I hate going to the dentist."
In most areas of my life, I'm a grown up. I do things I don't want to do and try not to complain too much. I can clean bathrooms, do my taxes, and accomplish many other unpleasant things, but going to the dentist is in a completely different category. I can't stand having my teeth touched. By a sharp metal object. And scraped.
Today's torture was even more effective than usual. They used a high-speed water-shooting whirring thingie on my teeth. I had to stop Heidi several times to give me time to shake and whimper and curl up in a corner. I love making a good impression like that. I'm sure she's going to bring a video camera next time so she and all of her friends can have a good laugh at my expense.
I wasn't very awake when I went in first thing this morning hoping to semi-sleep through the trauma. I was in jeans and a t-shirt and a wet-hair ponytail and wasn't wearing any makeup. After the water-torture, I was glad that I hadn't taken any time on my appearance. My face and hair were soaked; I'm so glad I was only going home!
Since I was out of the dentist's office by 9:30 am, the bars weren't open yet. I had to find some other way to put my ordeal behind me. What would a quilter do? I took an hour and cut up my scraps and sewed some completely unnecessary blocks and enjoyed myself immensely.
Caffeine withdrawal update: My family is threatening to hold me down and caffeinate me against my will. It's like they think I'm grumpy or something. Harumpf! Like a second day of a killer headache wouldn't leave any reasonable human dying for a Diet Dr. Pepper.
I did make some progress in the