And tomorrow I die

Maybe.

That’s what it feels like anyway. I have extreme anxiety about this thing, which makes me feel really dopey. It’s a dentist, not a guillotine. Right?

How many people die from dentistry anyway? I can’t find a satisfactory answer via cursory and disinterested google search. Doc Holliday practiced dentistry. Clinton is accused to have ordered someone killed in a dentist chair by the lunatics in the world. Moe Green was in a barber’s chair, but still, it’s kind of close.

There is no reason for me to be flipping out. I will chill. Nothing is happening tomorrow anyway. I am going to jump rope and practice mime. I am not doing anything mouth-related at all.

Oh boy.

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