Hear We Go.

We're back in business, Reader. And that business I'm referring to is the business of hearing.

It was hard being disabled, Reader. Yes, I did just compare my plugged-up waxy ear to a disability. Because I was deaf, and even though it was only temporary, it still counts. I applied for a handicapped sticker during my time of infirmary. They told me to incorporate better hygiene practices. I call discrimination and plan on marching on Washington on behalf of all of the waxy-earred's who go unheard. 

So anyway, I'm back to hearing all the noises of the world. Let me tell you what I learned while I was disabled. 

I slept like a motherfucker when I couldn't hear. 

It was bliss. 

I heard nothing, with my "good" ear smashed in the pillow. I think that's the first time I really got into some serious REM sleep. I did wake up every couple of hours, after my REM cycle ended, and felt refreshed and ready to take on the day, even at 2 a.m. And then because I wasn't assaulted by the noises of life, I dropped right back off to sleep, for another few hours of delicious REM. 

It's made me realize how poorly I sleep on a regular basis. 

But once that wax plug plopped out due to extensive flushing, the world came to life. I could hear the future - crickets in the yard rubbing their little violin-string legs together. And it's winter, Reader. I could hear 'em all the way from August. 

So now I'm on an olive-oil in my ears regimen. That's what you're supposed to do, put a couple drops in the ears each week to keep 'em clean. 

I promise not to share any details if any of my other orifices get gummed up with anything. Pinky swears.