This week will involve two of the things I hate most in the world- airports and the dentist. I'm going back home to Rochester to finally have my wisdom teeth out. I am not happy about this for any reason whatsoever.
Although, I don't hate the dentist as much as I hate and fear dental hygienists (and am thoroughly weirded out that all the dental hygienists at my dentist's are named Judy... it's very Twilight Zone...). I honestly can't handle it when they talk to me and expect me to respond whilst poking around my mouth with sharp objects. It makes me panic. Especially because they're always really perky. I deal poorly with perky-ness.
Dental Hygienist: So, what have you been doing in Chicago?
Robyn: Allaghsighdksidh, dhdsisdich...ewqnjklvdhi...(drool...)
I don't hate flying because I'm afraid the plane will crash. I merely fear being annoyed at the airport. EVERY time, something obnoxious happens. I swear to god, I have no luck at airports. Ugh.
But Jerry Falwell is dead, and that's pretty swell. And I'll of course be glad to see everyone. Even though I won't look very pretty what with the swollen face and all...