So I'm here. Watching the clock. Wishing away the minutes so that I can go get it over with. Trying not to cry when Shawn makes the "bzzzzz" noise and points at my eyes because he really does think that I'm stronger than I am and that I'm not scared. Which is ridiculous because I'm the lady who hasn't been to the dentist in over two years because of the anxiety attacks that hit as soon as the dentist chair reclines.
The good news it that I went Boxing Day shopping and splurged on new bed stuff. I got a pillow-top mattress pad and new king-sized pillows and a fluffy new duvet and duvet cover. Paired with the new Egyptian-cotton sheets and soft, flannel pyjamas that my mom gave me for Christmas, our bed is somewhere that I'm looking forward to spending the next few days in. Plus there are two kinds of ice cream in my freezer. And a nine-hour audiobook (The Sweetness At the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley) and thirty-five podcasts (You Look Nice Today) on my ipod. I'm as prepared as I can be, is what I'm saying.