Friday, May 1, 2009

Thirty white horses on a red hill...

It's 8AM, so my health insurance's office should be open so I can hustle them out of hustling me out of finding an oral surgeon. Why is it so hard?

I called the Member Services line about 30 minutes ago and was talking to a machine that was really odd because I didn't have to give formulaic answers to continue the conversation so I know there was someone listening on the other line...so why did I have to wait until 8AM to get some one-on-one time with you? I just want to get six teeth pulled, noooo biggie.

I just ate the last three Raffaello (or, "Raffaelli"?) from last night's junk-food-love-fest in class. Jess looked at me funny and I know I was being wasteful when I devoured the "Pure Pleasure Without Chocolate" and spit out the almond in the middle. Sorry! I can't break these frenillos any more than I have. =(

My braces have been killing me since I probably got them all out of whack eating some chips or something. I take the blame. I didn't know cheeks were so tough, though. I called my orthodontist yesterday in desperation so that I could come in for just a second or two so someone could fix my hardware but our schedules for yesterday just didn't match up. And the office is closed on Fridays. And Saturdays. And Sundays. And I have an appointment on Monday, so I guess I better stock up on the dental wax.

Just 20 more months of this, right? Right.

I regret eating that Zebra Cake a couple of minutes ago for breakfast but at least I didn't eat the other in the package. Little Debbie, you and your snackey cakes!

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