Every single night around 7, my frontal lobe revolts against the peaceful state of the rest of my brain, the result of which is a horrible drilling sensation in the middle of my forehead. What are you even doing up there, you asshole frontal lobe?
Today, the drilling sensation is actually starting early. I didn't realize this until I had already loaded every single clothing that I own into side by side Wascomatt Jr's at Rose's laundromat. I think I probably overloaded both of them, so I worry as to the level of cleanliness that my clothing shall attain. It took me about 10 minutes to cram all of my clothing inside, as various articles kept spewing out--a sure sign that a 3rd Wascomat was probably required. As long as the sickness is soaked away, I'll be satisfied. It isn't as though I wallow around in filth, and actually need a heavy duty wash. Just cleaning away the natural man scent acquired after 7-10 wearings (for pants) or 3-6 (for shirts) or 1 (for undergarments, I'm not a total dirt bag, after all.)
I was sick all last week, possibly with a swine flu (it's hard to know) so my house accrued a level of clutter and filthiness not heretofore experienced. Which meant I spent about 2 hours cleaning and disinfecting, hence the over sized laundry loads due to bed linen cleansing.
I'm not sure what it is about coming to the laundromat that makes me think about miracles, but I always do. Perhaps it is the chola with the sparkly diamond (probably cubic Z's) piercing sundry locations on her face sitting nearby, her golden Virgin Maria Santa hanging round her neck, reflecting the dying sun, splaying refracted light across my Wascomatt Jr. double loaders, which causes me to ponder miracles. This week, 2K10 blessed me with 2 more miracles.
First, I rarely get sick. Usually no more than twice a year, often less. When I do catch an illness, it is typically a 2-3 week ordeal. My body apparently hates being full blown sick, and so rather attempts to spread out the various symptoms over a few week period. I typically start with a sore throat. Then, days later, sore throat slowly morphs into maximum sinus congestion which, days later again, becomes a wretched hacking cough. Never all at once. This week however, I was blessed with every sickness at the same time, and have somehow miraculously started the new week basically healed, except for the drilling pm headaches. Which may be a separate thing entirely, since I almost never get headaches. Perhaps a brain tumor in an embryonic phase, growth triggered by dusk.
The second miracle, involved taxes. I didn't make an incredible amount of money this year, but upon reviewing my W2, I supposed that I had paid the government significantly less than what I imagined the government would think it deserved. Probably by a few hundred dollars. So imagine my surprise when, upon doing my taxes, I found out the government wanted to give me 62 dollars back. Gracias, Santo Obamanos.
Por favor, dear Santo Obamanos, please continue to rain upon thy humble countryman every such 2K10 blessing his tender little heart desires, most especially an economy that isn't tan jodido a la verga, that thereby he may acquire gainful employment.