I've been in pretty good shape, after that first night when the brace-related chemicals I had swallowed along with the two Manhattans and glass of wine sent me to the Porcelain Honda just when my boyfriend was basically proposing.
However, I am totally miserable today.

The freakin' cleats are like little buzz saws for my tongue.

Suddenly, the entire right upper and lower portions of my mouth feel like Jesse Ventura is landing something more than TV-wrestler body slams on them.

The braces in my entire mouth feel like I've surrounded my teeth, tongue, palate you-name-it with barbed wire. My right ear is ringing and I'm wondering if the tinnitus has anything to do with teeth moving and messing up neura pathways, etc.

The inside of my lips, upper and lower, is sticking to the blasted brackets, and the hooks on the outside of the molar bands on the bottom feel like ten pounds of doodoo in five pound bag.

I took my boyfriend's youngest daughter out for dinner tonight, and despite the fact that I really need to lose 20 pounds because I recently retired my horse and get no exercise, ate only the deep fried chicken on the Chili's salad and almost none of the lettuce because I couldn't face picking those lettuce shards out from the gum under the blasted hooks on the outside of the upper and lower molar bands.
The two Manhattans I had when I got home didn't touch it, any of it, but I'm not about to take drugs on top of that. I'm halfway through the month and I've only made 1/4 of the month's average income (I'm a freelance writer), and my boyfriend is 4,000 miles away on business and suffering tourista.
OK. I'm whining. But I read a post earlier today that said whining in the beginning was good.
I want to whine. I won't whine to my boyfriend when he calls--which the blessed man does twice a day at some astronomical expense--because he's no happier than I that we are apart at the moment. OK. So there's the blessing. After fifty-plus years, I finally met the man of my dreams....so a little braces pain and suffering is as nothing. OK. Got it.
But whining was still fun and a great release.
Onward and upward, to the bathroom and the blessed wax!

(I'm beginning to think wax is the major portion of my diet; perhaps the manufacturers should load it with vitamins!)
Yeatsmom