Casting Crowns In Tajikistan
I visited the godforsaken dentist this week. You know, I try and try, and I'm 52 years old and I should be over this now, but I really, really, really hate the dentist. I tell people that I'd 10 times rather go to the doctor than the dentist. So anyway, my hygenist asks me if my I'm having any problems with my teeth. I lie and say no, because, lying helps, right? I've been obsessed with a "sharp spot" on one of my teeth ever since my last visit - it feels like a tooth that's about to crack. But as I see it, if I tell them, they'll want to: Poke at it a bit with sharp objects. Poke me with a Novocaine needle. Drill it with unbridled joy. Charge me exorbitant out of pocket fees for the "white" filling because, heaven knows, insurance doesn't cover the white ones. So I lie. Then she tells me it's been a while since I've had X-Rays, so she layers me in lead and then makes me bite on these new "bite wings" th...