Tomorrow is the day the orthodontial torture finally ends, and it’s almost amazing how anxious I am about it. There’s no way that getting braces off can compare to the pain of breaking the damn teeth in the first place, or the pain of having them pulled, or probably even the pain of having random wires break and poke me in the gums. Relatively speaking, this almost has to be easy–after all, kids do it all the time. And yet…I’m authentically scared of how unpleasant tomorrow might be.

I can half-remember back in high school, playing a game with Kim A. while we ran in gym class. The part that isn’t quite clear is whether the game was coming up with places we would rather be, or places we would much rather not be. Was it that we could be eating ice cream or that we could be being eaten by bugs? Darned if I know. But at this moment in time, I would rather have food poisoning than get the braces removed and yet, I want nothing (almost) more than to be done with the whole stupid orthodontia thing.