Thath rallyth thuckt

It was the sort of dentist appointment that would send shivers down the sturdiest of spines.
The dentist had to deliver an additional shot of novacaine to my lower jaw, after his initial drilling nearly sent me skyrocketing out of the chair.
He replaced a couple of decayed silver fillings, then cautioned that a crack in one tooth might require a crown some day.
I apparently grind my teeth at night, so the dentist suggested wearing a "night guard," a type of retainer. His recommended, long-term solution to a bite problem? Revisiting my junior-high school days (Oak Grove Middle School, Concord, Calif.) by submitting myself to additional orthodontal work.
If I could smile, I would offer up a wry smile right about now.
Instead, I have been listening to ENGLISH PUNK ROCK and telling myself at the peak pain from my bound-to-be-sore jaw should coincide with our hour-long staff meeting this afternoon at work.