Trip to the dentist this morning for a routine teeth cleaning. Sounds simple enough, right?

Not today.

I hate going to the dentist. Honestly, it would probably make my list of the top five most awful things, right up there with Brent Musberger announcing every good college football game and Julia Roberts romantic comedies. I understand the necessity of making twice-annually trips to the torturer's dentist's office, so I just deal with it. But ugh, that little wheely thing they use to clean teeth and that horrible toothpaste they use that's so gritty and sticks in the back of your teeth for hours makes me curl my toes and tense up with revulsion. It's not a pain thing, it's just so uncomfortable for me that I can never wait for the horror to come to an end and for my smile to be bright and beautiful once again.

This morning's trip was particularly exciting. It appears that during cleaning, part of a filling on my back mollar broke off, requiring a little repair work. The dentist was pleased to see that he had not performed the original filling on that tooth, so his shoddy workmanship was not to blame. Super. Just what I wanted to hear. I was still dealing with the realization that I would have to endure the numb tongue and cheek thing for hours today. If you've ever had a filling, you know how less than enjoyable that can be. Then I was told that I probably wouldn't be able to eat anything until this evening, but my breakfast should hold me over until then, right? Perhaps, if I had eaten breakfast this morning. Instead, I had my last meal at 7 pm last night, roughly 18 hours ago.

I'm really cranky right now.

So I had the privilege of having a little drill make pleasant noises in my mouth today, and I know have a half numb mouth. Not exactly the thing most conducive to making me want to continue on my job search, which is going no where so far.

I'm very eager for Sunday to come.