El Diablo

What I’m thinking right now: AHHHHHHHHHHH!

True story. It’s what I’ve been thinking for the past three days straight. It’s been a very intelligent and insightful week, as you can tell. Obviously.

So now you’re wondering what has caused me to have such deep ruminations. (I can read your mind, so I know these things. Get used to it.) Answer: The Devil, under the clever guise of my “innocent” neighborhood dentist. Okay, oral surgeon. Whatever. Either way, he’s the mortal enemy that the human race has been facing for the last six billion years. After the Evil Emperor Zurg, I mean. Duh. But that goes without saying.

Anyway. As I was enduring my twice-daily (and by twice-daily I mean twice-annually) penance for sin, that is, getting my teeth cleaned, I was thinking it wasn’t so bad as it used to be when I was a little. Mostly because now that I’m a bona fide responsible adult they don’t feel the need to gag me with fluoride anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I love all the elements, but I really hate fluoride. Just don’t tell it so; I don’t want to give it some kind of complex or have to feel responsible for it having no self esteem or whatever.

So it was all going fine and dandy until they decided now is the time to juice me up, slice me open, and steal away my smarts. Which I keep in my wisdom teeth, naturally. I mean seriously, where else would you put them? Gotta go with the cliché. Apparently the time is ripe and I have no choice because if we don’t act now, the cyst will burst or become cancerous and infiltrate my sinuses or go all Columbine and take out the rest of the cells in my body. So it’s very pressing.

Which brings us to the present train of thinking: AHHHHHHH! Oops; I meant, AHHHHHHHHHHH! I’m terrified of this. Am I the only one that’s terrified of this? Probably. Why would you all be anxious about me being sadistically cut on? Unless you’re one of those freaky people who feels empathy for other people. Weird. While we’re on this pity bus though I should mention that they won’t knock me out either; just funny gas to make me calm, which I think is a ploy to sedate me so that they can then rob me blind and leave me all beat-up and bleeding on the side of the road outside their office. In any case, I’m thinking that the underlying message of this withholdal is that this meeting is a BYOD party and I’m supposed to arrive adequately drugged out so as to be able to handle it.

On other, less one-track (AHHHHHHHHHHH!) brain waves, festers the idea of that other fear. You know, the one where I tell people the truth about this secret I’ve got. That terrifies me very much as well. Probably more at an AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! level though; but it’s hard to judge precisely. I’ve been thinking about it more. Maybe if there was a deadline that I couldn’t get around, like with the appointment day for that stupid wisdom teeth thing. I of course cut that square out of my calendar, but somehow I don’t think that will prevent it from coming. But at least I tried. I’d have deeper thoughts on this subject, but they have been crowded out by the incessant AHHHHHHHHHHH!ing. Maybe if I could just find the volume knob to at least tone it down some….

On an unrelated note, and for your pleasure, I will share this fun fact that I just recently learned: Sometimes, if they’re feeling classy, blue wish-granting ethereal ones go by the name djinni. Or, if they’re really rebellious, even djinny. Crazy huh?