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Brain teeth brushing

Nov 25 2013

Brain teeth brushing

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the most troubled in the world?” “You, you you!” the mirror shouted back. I bite on the toothbrush. I wipe the mint foam off my mouth and then spit with despise. I rinse it off. I get closer and I observe my wrinkles in the smooth reflecting surface. My skin needs some moisturizing cream, some make up. A few strokes of comb in my hair will help.  “I’d be like new in a few moments”.

Rewind: Saturday I woke up at 8 am bothered by the nasty dog barking in the saloon. The kids had escaped their rooms and were having a party downstairs. I had to extract myself from bed. I flew down the stairs in slow motion. I collected all clothes from the ground that I encountered on my way to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and hoped for a moment of silence. No chance! The little one had prepared a coffee for me. He barged in carrying the cup in his both hands. “It’s hot! Mooooooom, it’s hoooooot!”  What could I have done? I thanked him for the nice treat; I gave him a kiss and I had a sip of coffee. I had to, otherwise he would have been disappointed. I put some clothes on and I rushed out the door. I was late, damn late for my workshop. 5 minutes later I realized I forgot my wallet in the other bag. The week bag! I had no time to make a U turn. Shoosh! I continued to my destination cursing between my teeth. I would have to cancel my appointments in town. Luckily I still had my phone with me so that I could just stress everybody out with my nonsense. In the afternoon: shopping on rails, the bags’ rush in the shops round the clock. The race of my life! In the evening: cheese and wine celebration in kids’ school. It was not about the wine or about the cheese, but about the effort of the teachers to ensure a nice event and to raise funds for their projects. Let’s spend cheerfully then! In the short night: short sleep. Sunday morning I pretended I didn’t hear the cheering downstairs. I just lay in bed. Straight. Eyes closed. Listening to the chaos approaching its climax: “Mooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom, B kicked the dog! Moooooooooooooooooooooooooooom, daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad, it’s not night anymore!”  – Damn! We ate lunch in the city, we had a nap in the afternoon, a bath in the evening and then I ironed and ironed and ironed for hours. I cleaned the house, I ranged all loose stuff and I crashed in a nightmarish sleep.

I still haven’t made the choice, whether right or bad… I have been brushing my teeth for minutes now, nervously chewing on the top of the brush from time to time, sucking on the plastic hairs, winding and rewinding my thoughts, turning them on all sides and wishing to have the guts to take the call. I am scrubbing my brains and my conscience in a desperate attempt to remove all negative thoughts that would leave stains behind. The conclusion hits me: brain tooth brushing doesn’t help! It burns out!

It’s Monday morning.

“Let the day dreaming begin!” I apply myself to the task of covering up the scars of a heavy weekend of little sleep and much shouting around. Quickly. Faultless. With the art of a con master.

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