I’m back. Forced into the electric dentist chair. The clock is ticking, it’s just a more fleeting minutes. i’ve already taken my coping methind, myu valim pills. There starting to ckik in, and you know, I’m feleling better about the whole atrocity, but still, even with chemcical support, the dread and fear and dark storm clouds of dreadufl anticipation loom frightening just right over head, threatening to crush my indomitable and indefatigable declining spirit. I don’ts want to go, the peoploe are nice, I like the dentist, he’s a good guy, he has small hands, he likes to joke around with me, which I get a kick out of, and I’m not afraid to tell him what I think about the whole dentist profession,a nd he kinda likes my refreshing honest I feel. but at the same time he thinks it’s no big deal, well of corse he wouldn’t, he’s on the OTHER end of the drill and pick and amalgam and suction and grinders and every manny of devious inhume instruments. Sorry, I have MUHC MUCH more to say but I have to leave now. Pray for me.