That's the tooth.

Today I am labouring valiantly to be the kind of man I wish I was, rather than the one I know myself to be. Today I am attempting to remain calm and collected in the face of perilous adventure, when I would much rather stay at home and damn the consequences. Today I am putting on a brave face and pretending it's the fact I've had my first coffee since Sunday morning that's making my heart pump faster and hands tremble.

Today, I'm going to have my first-ever tooth pulled. It's a completely new experience - I've never even had a filling. But I do know that I strongly dislike having a man's hands in my mouth, that the idea of a needle sliding into my gum is a borderline nightmare and that a personal, amateur inspection of the tooth in question shows it to be firmly lodged in my jaw.

Not since I lost the last of my baby teeth have I felt such oral ickiness.

But yeah. Clock's ticking. My appointment's at 11:40, and the best I can hope for is to put on a brave face. And not wee myself. That wouldn't be in keeping with the courageous persona I'm scaffolding around myself.