Hard to concentrate

On Tuesday, at some indecent hour of the morning, I found out what interferes more with one’s concentration than Mark speaking in nondescript half-sentences. Out of nowhere Whamo! Bang! Ka Pow! my bottom molar beat up my gums and started a war.

Let me tell you about my gums. My gums don’t take no shit from no one foo’. So my gum was like “oh no you didn’t” and got all swollen and angry. Then my top wisdom tooth got involved and chomped down onto it. Not ones to stay out of a good scuffle, my neck, tonsils and sinuses got involved. My sinuses!!! You know the part of you that isn’t really connected to your teeth and gums? Yes, well, they exploded with snot.

But I’m okay with that because I appreciate that creepy appearances do wonders for early morning crowd control. And I also happen to think that when half of my face is blown up, my eyes puffy and my nose dribbling, I look a little bit like that chic from Bridget Jones’ Diary.

What I’m not okay with, however, is that my train of thought has gone from: “Oh my god…I think…no, surely not. It couldn’t be. Is that comma is in the wrong place?! I think it is. I THINK IT IS. Okay Agnes, don’t lose your cool.”…to: “I wonder if I can find someone to punch my tooth out?”

Luckily I have found just such a person. Except rather than “punch” they’re going to “extract” it. Tom-a-to, tom-ay-to…I can almost feel the freedom; it tastes like things I can chew, things other than soup, antibiotics and aspirin (which is, coincidentally, what my diet has been made up of).

The grand act of tooth extraction will be happening at noon on Friday. And for the first time I can say two things with confidence:

1. I’m looking forward to going to the dentist.
2. I’m much more distracted then when Mark bursts out with “yeah, because those things would be cool. But only if they really worked.”