My poor mouth.

First thing this morning I threw back my head expecting to drink lukewarm water. It was boiling hot, scalded my tongue... it still hurts.

This afternoon I went to the dentist for the first time in almost three years. I remembered why I waited so long. The cracknut burned my inner lip and cheek, left an extra layering on a tooth and now that side doesn't close properly anymore, and did not properly polish the inside of an upper left tooth, leaving a jagged edge that my scalded tongue is perpetually sliding towards.

Plus, I found out one of my wisdom teeth is sitting on a nerve, and that once it is removed (and it will be removed, or so I'm told) then it will be numb for "quite awhile." I asked if "quite awhile" meant hours... days...

"Months."

I should have known. After all, I'd already received the lecture from the dental hygienist "You should have removed them a long time ago, maybe three to four years ago. Maybe then your tooth wouldn't be so crooked."

My poor mouth. I'm pouting. Painfully.