Stages of Panic–Wisdom Teeth Out

So… I’m getting my wisdom teeth out.

In… 8 hours.

Yup.

All four of them.

Freaking me out.

AAAAAAAAGH.

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Edit: 7:40am. The worst thing, right now, is I can’t freaking anxiety eat.I have to have 8 hours of empty stomach.

FAHK.

EDIT: 7:21pm

I would love to now give you a picture of me chubby cheeked, as now the operation is over, but I don’t even remember how I got home.

My dad drove me, btw, I didn’t just hobble and stumble my way home with my mouth bleeding and probably asking about the random shit that comes to mind.

But I don’t remember the ride home (Yay drugs! Huzzah for the good stuff!), I don’t remember falling onto the couch nicely made up for me, I don’t remember then snoozing for a couple of hours…

But the snoozing was apparently long enough to get rid of the chubby cheeks.

My mouth still hurts.

Here’s a pic anyway.

No chubby cheeks here. Just the residual effects of drugs in my system

I am too tired to smile, and besides that, my mouth hurts.

Smile on your own time. Or, you know, check out my Other Friday Post for a laugh.

Happy Friday!

Happy Survival Day!

Last Edit: Thank god my interview was YESTERDAY. I feel like I would have been sullen and uncooperative and generally unpleasant if it was even a week from today.

*Actual last edit. Thanks Lexy, for leaving when I was too drugged to say anything. Same to you, Mom, Emma… and you took the dog! I need me some Gwynn lovin’!