Be Proud Of Me

Be very proud of me.  Why? 

Because I made a phone call!  

The way that happened is as follows.  

I woke up this morning, with all three of the bad teeth hurting.  I'm not sure what was going on, but the pain was excruciating.  It was so bad at one point, I felt like I was going to throw up.  

"Please, God, make these teeth stop hurting!" I begged, but the teeth kept on hurting.  "Jesus," I said, "are you going to make these teeth hurt until I call the oral surgeon?"  

And he smiled and said, "Yep."  

Sigh, I guess it's my own fault.  After all, I'm the one who prayed for strength to make that phone call.  

Oh, all right!  I'll call him!  But can you at least ease the pain until I get home?  

God is faithful, and gradually, the toothaches subsided.  Shortly after the work day ended, I grabbed the phone before I could chicken out, and got my procedure scheduled.  It's not until May 18, but at least it's on the books.  Then I messaged Cody to see if he could get the time off to drive me, because I have to have a driver to get the IV sedation.  He said it shouldn't be a problem, neither should it be for me to get my vacation days scheduled.  I'm going to take the day of and the day after, since it's three teeth I'm getting pulled.  I kind of feel like I'll need that extra day to recover.  

Now, I just need to call the plumber.  

Wish me luck.  

This is going to be short tonight, because I didn't sleep well last night.  Add to that the time change, plus a busy day at work during which I had to pick up an order third shift started, and apparently didn't count because I spent the last hour of that order scrounging for parts just to find enough to get it finished -- all  while dealing with not one, but three toothaches, so I'll just leave you with this.  It's the funniest thing I've seen in a while: