mood: relieved

music: Sim City 4 music

A few weeks ago, I noticed that my ears were feeling...clogged. And, and certain times, tipping my head would result in an uncomfortable sensation of something moving around inside my ear canal, accompanied by an equally uncomfortable rumbling noise. This happens every so often, and when it does, I need to get my ears irrigated. I've endured this particular procedure before, and I can tell you with certainty that it's unpleasant in the extreme. The nurse, usually a young, inexperienced female named Rached, walks in with a bowl, a towel, and an irrigation syringe, which is vaguely reminiscent of some sort of medieval torture device. She then proceeds to fill the thing with freezing water from the tap, not bothering to get out the bubbles, jams it into your ear, and aggressively squirts that pesky earwax out. (To imagine what water bubbles against your eardrum feel like, imagine a hailstorm inside your head.)

This time, however, it wasn't so bad.

The nurse, a middle-aged lady named Barb, not only used some ear drops (Which were, I found out, stool softener drops. She asked me not to tell the other patients.) to soften up the wax considerably before washing it out, but also used warm water, and was gentle with the syringe. Instead of the knuckle-whitening experience it usually is, it was only mildly unpleasant. That is, at least, until I had to pay the $87 fee.

Thim: Yea, but that was voluntary. I'm not advocating being a miser, but there's a word for compulsory service: slavery.

Wednesday night church was fun - I got put in charge of the service, which was in the atrium. It went off splendidly, no feedback, no pops, no buzz. I found out that lavalier microphones are difficult to EQ, other than that, the service was smooth as butter.

Speaking of church, I got a call from them yesterday, wanting to know my address. Of course, I inquired as to why they'd need it, and I was told by the polite secretary that they were sending out the invitations for the Christmas dinner (Which I might add, isn't anywhere near Christmas.) I politely declined to give it to them, after all, I see them 3-4 times a week, and it'd be just as easy to pick it up at the building. I was then asked whether I had a "significant other" that I'd like on the invitation. I barked a laugh and said no. When I went in that evening to run sound, my letter was waiting for me. I opened it out of curiosity, and immediately winced at the greetings. "Dear (my name) and Guest,". Isn't presumption great?

I should really send in my taxes...