I’ve mentioned recently that I’ve always hated my teeth. For the past week or so, though, a couple of my teeth have been hating me right back. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. My teeth are in surprisingly good shape considering their lousy alignment. It’s my gums that are a total mess, largely due to the way my teeth are misarranged.

Wendi called to make an appointment with our usual dentist and was surprised to find that there was an opening this very day. Lucky me, wot? I was expecting it to be a quick exam followed by another appointment during which some work would get done.

Oh, no. Doctor Packham took one look at the infected area and said, “Why don’t we just take care of that right now?” An hour, several anaesthetic injections and a fair dose of discomfort later, I’m cured. And in a growing amount of pain. (C’mon, Vicodin!) It’s funny that my teeth and gums are hurting like hell but my upper lip still won’t obey simple instructions. Well, not “funny ha ha” like a night at Harvey’s Comedy Club would be…

Did I mention that tonight we’re all supposed to go to Harvey’s? Mari and Doug, Lilith and Geoffrey, Wendi and I. If the painkillers kick in and I regain control of my face in time, I will go. I’m going to be uncomfortable anyway, I might as well have a good laugh in the process. Besides, we put too much effort into inviting all our friends to bail out at the last minute just because I’m feeling a bit tender.

The word you’re looking for is “masochist.” Thanks.