Pulling Teeth

I have a few legitimate fears in life, and I'm only mildly ashamed to admit it. Which is actually a major breakthrough for me, as admitting my fears is a fear of mine... or was, as it were. Anyway, one of these fears is starting to weigh on me like a... well, like something heavy, I guess. And I don't like it. Not one BIT!

So here it is. I'm just going to lay it out there. Gonna shoot straight with ya... from the hip... right atcha. Okay... I'm stalling.

Here it goes (deep breath)... I'm afraid of the dentist.

You know what, that really didn't feel as good as I'd hoped. Actually, now I'm just embarrassed. That's the opposite of what I was hoping for. Regardless, it's true. It really isn't difficult for me to trace the origin of these fears. I think it pretty much stems from the fact that most dental work requires some level of pain. And since we're being honest, I'll just tell you that I'm not a big fan of pain.

Lately, however, I've begun to fear that my fear of dentists is catching up with me... I've been haunted for the past several months with a recurring toothache. And every time it resurfaces, I have the same nagging realization - one of these days, I'm just gonna have to cave and go see a stinkin' dentist. I'll have to face the music, as they say. Of course, I've never really understood that phrase. If you want to make it really dreadful, you should just say, "Time to face the dentist." That's dreadful in both a figurative and literal sense. 'Cause my time's comin'... and it's comin' soon.

But you can be sure that when it does, I will be brave. After all, having dental work can't be half as bad as having a vasectomy.

And now I've said too much.