The dentist informed me today that I’m grinding my teeth while sleeping. To which the small part of me that thinks I’m still semi-betrothed wants to yell, “My boyfriend says I’m not!” to somehow “I know you are but what am I?” the guy holding a wrench in my mouth. Insult is heaped onto injury when wrench doc signs me up for some newfangled mouth guard, which I know does not come in today’s trendiest colors (because I asked), and which shall henceforth be worn during my every sleep cycle. Which should do wonders for my sex life, because we all know a spittle-covered retainer removed during foreplay is every man’s sexual dream.
April 19, 2007