Thing a Week 12: Late! (Complete With Crappy Excuse)

In an unfortunate trend, i am two days late to posting this. this is a BAD THING, but in my defense i had my wisdom teeth pulled today, so maybe i couldn't write because of emotional distress? anyway, this is my memory of the surgery. I'm sure everyone how reads it will find it quite instructive.

Start: I am in the car, being driven to the oral clinic by my mummy. I fall asleep.
Next: I wake up as we pull into the clinic. We get there early, so we have to wait outside for a little while before the doors are unlocked. once I get in, I start reading a reader's digest. As usual, the jokes aren't that funny. The nurse asks me to pee before the surgery.
And then I'm called in! A young, fairly attractive nurse starts asking me routine questions: Am I allergic to stuff (nope), do I take meds (nope), have I ever had Vicodin (nada), have I ever had an IV (again, no) how old am I (something I try to avoid telling the Internet) how tall am I (6'2") how much do I weigh (fat).
Then I get the nitrous oxide. I don't start to laugh, and feel disappointed. nurse person starts hooking up lots of doodads to me. This one checks my heart beat, this one checks my pulse, this one tears off my leg hair, and this one is purely decorative.
Still nothing from the the laughing gas, so nurse lady turns it up. I don't notice any difference, but then I start smiling unaccountably, and giggling quietly. I was expecting complete euphoria, but this feels pretty OK. I don't like laughing without reason, so I try to stop. It works fairly well.
Now I can hear the dentist outside. He's talking about how his hand is dry, and it hurts when he bends it. It occurs to me that normally I would kind of pissed about him talking about that instead of me, but I'm high right, and couldn't care less.
Eventually he comes in and starts prepping my arm for the IV that is going to knock me out for the surgery. I hear one of the nurses (there are two in the room now) complain that it's hard to attach something to my left arm because she's left handed. I mention that I am too. She dislikes it because the world is designed for right-handed people; I do like it because it makes me feel superior (I take pleasure in small things). Then dentist guy pricks me with the IV. I smile while he does it, and one the nurses notices and says something about it. I tell her that I'm high, and really don't care.

Then I wake up, and the surgery is over. I have to stagger up and down a hallway a couple of times, then I'm guided out to the car. I spend the rest of the day sleeping and watching Star Wars.
Wasn't that the greatest story EVER!?!?