Hitting A Nerve

Final Step: Curl into a ball and cry!

I had my first ever root canal done yesterday. I must say that I could go another 31 years without having it done again. It wasn't painful at all. The shots they give you numb you for hours. But what it lacks in pain is made up for with the sights, sounds, and smells that accompany it. Let's just say I had my eyes closed, put Vic's vapo rub in my nose, and tried not to rip the arm rests off in my anxiety. The only good point is that thanks to my dental insurance, the whole ordeal was pretty cheap! I mean if you call $376 cheap.For a root canal and crown? That is unheard of! My boss isn't allowed to change our insurance. It's the best I have ever had! Sadly he will probably get rid of it because for the first time in 3 years, I have used it. Not to mention my dentist has a list of torture, I mean work, he needs to do on me. He's just going to have to wait, because even if the nerve was removed from my tooth, chewing hurts, and accidentally biting down?? Oh god. Not good.

My diary entries never ended up like Katy's! 

I was addicted to writing by the age of 10. I kept one of those small diaries with the lock anyone could break under my pillow. I never had anything interesting to say other than talk about how awful my mom was to me, and thinking about boys and kisses and what not. As I evolved as a human, my diaries tended to be used in the worst of times in my life. Unlike this blog, which is pretty much an online and public diary of sorts, when I was my most distressed I gravitated towards writing. I have journals, and spiral note books everywhere. I ran across one on Sunday, and it was from 2003. It doesn't surprise me how 9 years has changed my views on life. I had been separated from my first husband for a year, and just started dating my current husband. I thought I knew what life was all about. Little did I know, I had barely scratched the surface.  I was so naive then, always looking right past the bad for the good, no matter how big the bad might be. I miss that part of myself. I thought I was so right in my assessments, and willing to ignore misgivings and intuition for the silver lining. I suppose that is part of growing up. The worst part of it all is knowing 10 years from now, I am most likely going to be laughing at my 31 year old self as I look through this blog. Maybe by then, I might have my head screwed on straight enough...

or perhaps not. I like me the way I am.