I did go to the dentist.
And it did suck.
Why is it that I get the hygenist that decides to preach to me the holy ways of brushing "properly?" I walked out of there feeling guilty for allowing myself to fall by the illiterate tooth-brushing wayside.
I could've just gone to Jenny Craig and felt guilty for eating two Snickers bars last night.
Better yet, I could've gone to church.
Instead, I get someone plowing through my mouth with a shiny metal hook yelling at me for not flossing while she wipes blood and plaque on a small blue bib attached to my neck by a chain.
Apparently, when I start to floss my gums will be sensitive and bleed at first, but then they'll get used to it, thus says the wise hygenist.
What if I don't *want* my gums to get used to abuse?
Maybe I enjoy being a sensitive soul, both inside and out.
And this includes my gums.
So anyone wielding that shiny metal hook of insensitivity can just go stuff their heads in that tiny sink next to the dentist chair.