earwax

have you ever cotton-swabbed your ears for several days in a row pulling dissatisfyingly clean q-tips out of your ear every time, but you know there is earwax in your ear because you can feeeeeel it inside your head? this has been me for the past three days, culminating at the bar last night looking pretty in my lacy white dress except for my finger in my ear rooting around for ear wax. i kept telling myself to stoppit. just stoppit. but my finger kept reaching for my ear. i felt neurotic and gross and awkward and i had to order whiskey and hold it with both hands to keep my fingers from creeping back into my ears. weirdo.

and then…
i saw a friend and then another friend and then another friend as is wont to happen late night on wednesdays at the bar and i kept my hands on my whiskey glass and listened to their stories, listened to their desires, listened to their sorrows, and i quit thinking about the unreachable earwax in my ears.

the moral of this story…
get out of your own head. listen to someone else. order a whiskey (or a topo chico for my sober friends) and hold onto it with both hands. if we did more of these things we’d all act less weird and be more available to experience the present moment engaging with another. the world becomes more beautiful, varied, dynamic, and interesting the moment you stop thinking about yourself (or your ear wax) and focus your attention on someone else.

also…
wash your hands.

 

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About angel joy

love is an action verb. i live love in action.
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