One of my new brackets is rubbing against the inside of my upper lip, creating a very raw bump that catches on the metal every time I talk, smile, eat and...do just about everything.
Last night, I tore apart my purse, bathroom, bedroom searching for that little magical box of orthodontic wax. The fact that I couldn't find it anywhere drove me absolutely nuts, because I'm the Queen of knowing exactly where all of my stuff is at any given time. It's my thing.
As I obsessed over where it could possibly be, I suddenly got a very distinct image in my mind of me tossing the box in the garbage four months ago and saying smugly to myself, "Hah! I'm never going to need that again!"
Right now, I would be quite happy to smack Four Months Ago Bella across her braceless face.
(In case you were wondering: Yup, braces + raw lip = cranky Bella.)