I was in quite a good mood earlier today. Not ecstatic, but a step up from my normal- just a bit more relaxed, smiley and at peace with the world.

Then, something happened to break this mood. Not so much break it as sever, smash and splinter it into a million tiny pieces of lost hope and joy. I went to the orthodontist.

I've already documented how much I hate going to the orthodonist. And I know it's not all the fault of the man himself; orthodontistry by nature is not the most pleasant of things to force upon someone. But (foolishly) I thought I was beyond the biggest horrors of my orthodontistry adventure. I'd had my train tracks for 4 long years, and two weeks ago they were removed. Never before had my teeth felt so free, released from their metal restraints and allowed to shine in all their smooth, straight glory.

But no longer is that the case, for today Mr Keene introduced my teeth to a new cage- perhaps even more frustrating than the last.

Introducing: THE BEAST.


It takes up the whole roof of my mouth, and while it doesn't hurt, it feels hugely uncomfortable and disgusting. I'm meant to wear it at all times, other than for meals, for at least a year. And it makes me talk like, well, like I've got a huge lump of plastic and metal shoved in my mouth, ie like a retard. (Too angry to think of a PC word, sorry.)

Hopefully I will adjust to it a little over the next week. Until then, I plan on staying in and refusing to talk to anyone lest they a) laugh at me or, perhaps more annoyingly, b) are sympathetic to a piss-taking extent. For now, I can only ask myself- what did I do to so offend the gods of orthodontistry?