(no subject)
Aug. 1st, 2007 01:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fenrisrangerHere's my cunning, cunning plan.
I'm going to go to bed now. This is a few hours later than I have been going to bed lately (though it's been getting later and later because I'm pushing it back to normal hours so I don't die when school starts). Then, I will wake up, prolly when everybody (save Dad, who's down in Oklahoma for some Shakespeare teaching fellowship) comes home from the float trip (that I actually wanted to go on but couldn't due to "personal reasons") around 6:30. Or later, because now that I'm looking at that time, that's obnoxiously little sleep. Anyway. Then, I stay up all night (as per usual) and all morning (slightly less usual--usually I'm in bed by 10 at the latest), so that when I go to the dentist at 11, I'll be so exhausted that I'llprobably have a nervous breakdown in the office be able to go to sleep right afterward until I'm in less pain and psychological distress.
That is, if they give me sufficient drugs.
This is the downside of Dad being in Oklahoma. Mum can find no fault in this old dentist, and thus everything wrong with my teeth is my fault (given, I didn't actually learn to operate the electrical toothbrush correctly until last year, and thus most brushing up till then was partially or fully ineffectual, but when the dentists blame somebody else for the problems, I'm prone to believe them. As that removes the fault from me). And she's thoroughly against anything that doesn't come with the drilling-the-fuck-out-of-your-mouth package, meaning the extra drugs/gas/whatever that I need to not have a panic attack on the bloody chair (hell, even in the parking lot). And she's got no idea how bad my dentist phobia has become, as the only time it really flared was this last one when Dad was with me. So I'm going to make a fool of myself because she doesn't believe I need them, and also prolly have to swear to pay for at least anything extra they tack on (she's already pissed because I didn't ask if the panoramic x-ray came with the exam package or not, and so when the hygienist all but pushed it on me and Mum got an extra nearly $300 on the bill, there was some hollering. That's pure gouging, though, not to mention taking advantage of a terrified teenager to add anything they could think of that would cost more. Hell, the mint toothpaste she used prolly cost extra too; I should have opted for the bubblegum), and very possibly part of the whole bill.
So thus, pain and discomfort. I expect there to beTonks waiting on my bed to snuggle it away lots of Tonks!porn when I return. *glares beseechingly at the internets*
I'm going to go to bed now. This is a few hours later than I have been going to bed lately (though it's been getting later and later because I'm pushing it back to normal hours so I don't die when school starts). Then, I will wake up, prolly when everybody (save Dad, who's down in Oklahoma for some Shakespeare teaching fellowship) comes home from the float trip (that I actually wanted to go on but couldn't due to "personal reasons") around 6:30. Or later, because now that I'm looking at that time, that's obnoxiously little sleep. Anyway. Then, I stay up all night (as per usual) and all morning (slightly less usual--usually I'm in bed by 10 at the latest), so that when I go to the dentist at 11, I'll be so exhausted that I'll
That is, if they give me sufficient drugs.
This is the downside of Dad being in Oklahoma. Mum can find no fault in this old dentist, and thus everything wrong with my teeth is my fault (given, I didn't actually learn to operate the electrical toothbrush correctly until last year, and thus most brushing up till then was partially or fully ineffectual, but when the dentists blame somebody else for the problems, I'm prone to believe them. As that removes the fault from me). And she's thoroughly against anything that doesn't come with the drilling-the-fuck-out-of-your-mouth package, meaning the extra drugs/gas/whatever that I need to not have a panic attack on the bloody chair (hell, even in the parking lot). And she's got no idea how bad my dentist phobia has become, as the only time it really flared was this last one when Dad was with me. So I'm going to make a fool of myself because she doesn't believe I need them, and also prolly have to swear to pay for at least anything extra they tack on (she's already pissed because I didn't ask if the panoramic x-ray came with the exam package or not, and so when the hygienist all but pushed it on me and Mum got an extra nearly $300 on the bill, there was some hollering. That's pure gouging, though, not to mention taking advantage of a terrified teenager to add anything they could think of that would cost more. Hell, the mint toothpaste she used prolly cost extra too; I should have opted for the bubblegum), and very possibly part of the whole bill.
So thus, pain and discomfort. I expect there to be
