Since I have been — and still am — too mentally exhausted to write about our moving experience in a fun and witty manner, I shall give you this lovely piece called “Thoughts @ the dentist whilst the teeth are being picked,” which is leftover from last December. Enjoy.
“Ow. ow. ow. ow. ow.”
“Eww, something’s on my tongue, something’s on my tongue!”
“I wish I could switch off my saliva glands. I wonder if they think I rewater my mouth too much.”
“Uhh, a fleck of something landed near my eye!”
Then the toothpaste comes out:
“Oh, God, no, cinnamon! Worst. Flavor. Ever. I wonder if they’re celebrating the Christmas season [with the cinnamon toothpaste]. Gross. Why did they not give me a choice? Oh, God, oh, God, its on my tongue; it BURNS! Aggghhhh!”