Aural hygiene.

I'm not writing about Clarence today, after all. Remember that storm at sea I told you about? Well, I thought it was dizziness brought on by exhaustion and it would go away after a few hours' sleep. Well, when I woke up last night at one A.M. for a midnight snack, it had indeed gone away. But it came back with a vengeance around 11:30 this morning while I was out running errands.

It was so awful, in fact, that I had to ask K to come home early so I could get to the doctor. We're talking near fainting, world wobbling here. Not an experience I have often.

So I went to the doctor, not knowing what to expect. Was it something stupid but understandable, like lack of sleep? Was it something tragic but sexy, like a brain tumor? Or was it a reaction to the smokey air coming down from Canada--a reminder of my fragile relationship with nature?

None of the above. The culprit: ear wax.

They did all the usual stuff, of course, to make sure I didn't have a neurological problem or a virus or something, and those possibilities aren't entirely ruled out. But in order to check my balance, they had to look in my ears, and in order to look in my ears, they had to clean them out.

So they did, and after removing enough wax to keep your floor shiny 'til Armageddeon, I was suddenly no longer dizzy or tired. Just very, very hungry.

I don't know what's more pathetic: that it happened, or that I feel writing about it is part of my Blog Mandate...