Waxy Buildup to Nothing.

Yesterday started off like a typical Sunday: I woke up earlier than I wanted because my stupid bladder seems to be running a pretty tight schedule. I couldn't get back to sleep so I ventured into the office, where I goofed around online, catching up on the YouTube subscriptions I've been neglectful of the past few months, taking special care to properly plug my ear buds into the speakers so Jay might stand a chance at sleeping in for once. (There was a Sunday where I failed to properly plug in the ear buds and Jay let me know about it through a series of sighs and grunts that could have been easily been mistaken for Phil Hartman's portrayal of Frankenstien on SNL.)

Jay eventually woke up and we went about our day. Church, a little shopping, lunch, etc.

Then last night I got an itch inside my ear. I hate those because there's no proper way to take care of them. I usually try the shoulder squishy method...you know...that move where you tilt your head to the side and raise your shoulder at the same time (It happens at about 9 seconds in) in hopes that the friction will somehow overpower the itchiness.

But that doesn't always work. Then I have to go and get q-tips involved. Which is what happened last night.

I know what you're thinking. Am I seriously blogging about cleaning my ear out with a q-tip.

Yes I am. But hang in there, I assure you this is going somewhere more amusing than disgusting...but for now...on to the disgusting.

The q-tip came out black. Not like completely black. More like a few charcoal looking flakes of black mixed in with what one would normally see on a q-tip that just came out of an ear.

I know - eeew, right?!?

I had no idea what the Hell was going on, so I immediately did what any disease-fearing hypochondriac would do - I Googled my "symptoms" and braced myself for the worst. All kinds of terrible scenarios ran through my head...all of which ended in my certain premature death. But none of those scenarios seemed to be confirmed by the first few pages of search results. I read articles aloud to Jay, who was by this point peering over my shoulder and trying his best to convince me that I was overreacting and should just go to bed. He rubbed my neck while I scrolled through and nervously fumbled with various objects on the desk. His bender figurine...a Health Alliance pen...a coaster...my old ear buds with the worn out foam.

Oh. My. God.

I grabbed the ear buds and held them up in Jay's face, then threw them back down on the desk in disgust. A few black crumbs of foam flew off and confirmed what we'd both just realized - I'm am idiot.

And I need to buy some new ear buds.