It's only a brain wound!

     I still have the same headache and I can't think of a thing in the world to write about and it's already almost two in the morning and I'm really tired but this post is supposed to go up in the morning, so I'll just tell you a story, ok? Cool? Cool.

The story of how I had the worst shower ever outside of the movie Psycho:
    
     Yesterday when I was taking my shower, I flipped my head over to shampoo the part of my scalp that cannot be reached while upright through the stupidly huge mass of wet hair on top of it. As I flipped, though, I had the most horrible searing pain in my head, which I can only assume was my brain beating on the walls of my head screaming "FINALLY WE'RE MAKIN A BREAK FOR IT! USE THE GRAVITY, JUMP OUT AN EAR!" (My brain refers to itself in the royal "we," obviously). I understand now how Harry Potter felt when Voldemort came swanning up to him and poked him in the head all "I can touch you now, bitch!" 
    
     Then, upside down, clutching my head and making a face like a pug eating a lemon, the sudsy water ran directly onto my face and into my nose, straight through to my sinuses and out my eyeballs (Anatomy 101, fools). So I flipped my head over and stood up to lower my chances of falling out of the tub and becoming a LifeAlert reenactment as I sneezed wildly, trying to evacuate all of Spongebob Squarepants' poop from my nasal passages.

     But it gets better! When I opened my eyes from about the 8th sneeze in a row, there was blood EVERYWHERE. It looked like Dexter had been by to enact permanent justice on me for the time I left a fifteen percent tip instead of twenty because I didn't want to leave the last five percent of the tip in pennies. Naturally my first thought was that I must have nodded off for a second under the warm water and Freddy Kreuger had swung by to callously murder me. But then I remembered "wait, I don't sleep." So that wasn't it. No, it was just that the violence of my sneezing fit had triggered a nosebleed. And I wasn't done sneezing yet, either. So I stood in the shower for five more minutes, sneezing and spurting blood like the Black Knight, except it WASN'T only a flesh wound. I think it was an all-the-way-to-the-brain wound. I shampooed my insides, surely there is some internal damage.

     I guess if you're ever going to become a living, breathing personification of every low-budget arterial spurt effect ever, the shower's the place to do it. Easy clean-up.