Yes, I am highly aware of how crazy I sound.

Today anyway.

First of all, I'm a tough girl, I have survived kidney stones (if you've ever had them, you KNOW what I'm talking about... if you haven't... they say it's as close to the pain of unmedicated natural child birth a man can ever get. I am not a man, and we've already established that I am not ready to have children so.... yeah.). I have lived on my own since the ripe age of 17. I have sustained lots of injuries from unwaivering clumsiness. I'm not a big crier, although I have my moments. I can usually deal. But if I say something hurts, IT HURTS! He sits there and tells me:

"well... just give it a few more days. I don't have a magic wand that can just make the pain go away. I think all you need is a little reassurance that you're going to be fine."

EXCUSE ME

First of all, this is all coming about from the fantastic wisdom tooth extraction that I was so thrilled about a few posts back. That was a week ago. It started hurting after it was supposedly "healed" and I can feel something back there. I decided to give it a few more days but over the weekend I was near tears anytime anything touched it (toothbrush, food, etc.). I have constant headaches, can't chew or bite down on that side... somethings isn't right.

So following strict instructions, I cleaned it out with warm salt water again for about two min. (every few hours) Took a couple 400mg ibuprofen (every few hours) and rested until today when I could get in to see my dentist.

Second of all, don't say stupid childish things like "I don't have a magic wand to make the pain go away?" REALLY? YOU DON'T - wow, thats terrible news because I was certainly hoping your "magic wand" (does the fact that this last sentance triggered a snicker about sexual inuendos have anything to do with the fact that I haven't seen Sgt. in almost a year??) - sorry as I was saying, I was really hoping that your "magic wand" could fix THIS problem like it tends to fix everything else that goes wrong. (read: deployment, my car breaking down, screaming children I babysit...)

Now, upon first reading this, you might assume that Sgt. is in bigggg trouble. No. The snarky comment came from my dentist. In fact the strict instructions to rest and take ibuprofen and clean it out with warm salt water... THAT came from Sgt. - Riddle me this Batman, how does my boyfriend seem to take better care of me from 1,000's of miles away than my dentist does when I'm standing in his office?

Freakin nightmare. Actually, he's usually really nice, although I didn't appreciate his comment today, I get what he's saying. Apparently the problem is some bone thats sticking out of the socket and the gum tissue should heal over it if I give it a couple more days. Just kinda have to stick out the pain and discomfort. *sigh* FIIIIINNNEEEE.

That was all bright and early this morning. So after leaving the dentists office with little more than a pat on the back (at least no fee which is good) I decided to stop at Starbucks on my way back to work for a little treat, courtesy of me. I'll be the first person to admit, I am a LITTLE bit of a coffee snob. Not in general, I like my Folgers in the morning at my apt. but if I'm gana go into starbucks and pay 4 dollars for a coffee... I want what I want. Usually (brace yourself) I get a Triple grande, low fat, no foam, extra hot, extra carmel, carmel latte. Today though, I went through the drive through so I decided to make it a little more simple for time sake. All I wanted was a grande, no foam, extra hot, carmel latte. Not hard. Really. I get my coffee and hit the road back for work.

I go to take a drink and what is the first thing I taste?? FOAM!!! - I'm sorry, I must've been vauge when I ordered a latte with NO FOAM... I can see how that leaves a little bit of room for interpretation.

So... if you're keeping track: painful weekend + very little help from my dentist + wrong coffee order + (this part is new) not sure how Sgt. is doing cause every e-mail is centered on him giving me advice and well wishes... AND me feeling bad for complaining so much about it (I'm sure he's got his own issues) = my mind had HAD IT.

I started to get teary eyed, my throat started to burn, I was trying so hard to hold it in but just couldn't. I started to cry... and not just little tears, I was weeping in the car. All I could manage to say was "aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhh!!! WHY?! Why can't SOMETHING go right today?!"

As I'm crying I have the mental clarity to realize "you are crying... sobbing.... because there is foam in your coffee. *Does the math*... OOOOHHHHHHHHH" (sorry male readers - ) I'm totally PMSing. BAD apparently. I hate it when you realize how crazy you sound but you can't do much about it at that point.

It's times like these where I think "ya know, maybe it's not a terrible thing that he's deployed... if he was here to have to witness this, or worse bear the brunt of it, he might check me in to the ward."

** I know or am pretty dang sure that Sgt. has no idea about this blog... I sort of like it that way cause I'd like to show it to him when he gets home but.... incase (or for future reference) thanks for caring and trying to take care of me babe. :). I appreciate it!