Fingered

My Dear Fellows and Dear Princess Normal,

So I was texting Princess Normal this lunchtime as I headed along Lambton Quay to the dental hygienist. I thought it would be cool to send her a picture of the scene as I walked (see extras below).

And then I got THIS picture back. It was accompanied by a message:

Found something for you!

WHAT A CHEEK! Honestly! Like I would ever do anything this childish!!

But anyway, as soon as I put my mobile back in my pocket, I felt PAIN exploding in my left eyeball! It must have been a piece of grit the size of a BOULDER!

So by the time I got to the dentist's office, my left eye was a mess. The staff at that place must think I am just a permanent disaster zone. Constantly staggering in, clutching at something and whimpering that I'm about to die from sheer agony.

"If I cry during the cleaning, it's not because I'm in pain," I told the hygienist. "It's because my eyeball has just been struck by a METEOR."

I wish I hadn't told her that. It was like it gave her licence to be MEAN. I HATE going to the hygienist. It is much worse than a regular trip to the dentist. First of all they always lecture you for not flossing eight times an effing day. Then they STAB at your gums with that bloody high-pressure water-pick thing. SCREEEEEEE!!!

To be honest, some of those tears WERE actual pain. But after five minutes she told me I could rinse, to my relief.

I got up to go and she was like, "Errrr... ahem... we haven't finished..."

"What?" I said. "Where's my brave-boy sticker and my lollipop??" But she indicated I should go back to the chair.

And THEN she SCRAPED and SCORED and TUGGED and YANKED at my teeth for ANOTHER FIVE HOURS. Maybe it was minutes. I was too busy not screaming through my gums to notice.

HEY!! Wait a minute! Person reading this, are you laughing?? LAUGHING AT MY PAIN AND DISCOMFORT???

That is APPALLING. Do you know who ELSE laughs at the pain and suffering of others? Nazis, Demogorgons and GARETH MORGAN* that's who!

"You must admit it is SORT of funny," said Er Indoors.

MY OWN WIFE.

After that I went to see the Lovely Dentist for a quick check and she said everything was fine. We like Lovely Dentist much better than Mean Hygienist.

But by now my eye was REALLY starting to hurt. I went back to work and tried to squint at the screen. I found that if I looked to my right and up, it wasn't so bad although I think I must have looked a right tw*t doing that for three hours.

So anyway, I went to an optometrist after work. It turns out I have scratched my cornea.

"It's surprisingly common in this city," said the optometrist. "You really should wear sunglasses when it's windy."

DAMN YOU WELLINGTON.

So apparently it takes about 48 hours to heal, and I should feel a lot better in just 24. But right now it is HORRIBLE. I am typing this while looking at you people up-and-to-the-right and squinting like Popeye the Effing Sailor Man. Also, I am in FLOODS of tears. It is like they've announced the winner of Miss Wellington and I am first, second and Miss Congeniality all at once.

Not to be over-dramatic about it, but if I was to estimate the amount of pain I am in right now it probably goes like this on the pain-scale:

1. Paper cut.
2. Childbirth
3. Willy eaten off by pirahna.
4. Chainsaw death.
5. Corneal scratch.
6. That effing water-pick SCREE thing.

So yes, I'm sure you agree that I have had a RUBBISH day. AND no brave-boy sticker. AND the PRINCESS GAVE ME V FINGERS.

I'm going to eat a lot of chocolate now. I'll bet I get haemorrhoids or something next.

S.

* I've had a bad day and am in a take-no-prisoners mood.