Yesterday I'd felt like a large snowflake.

Today I feel like a utensil brush made of metal. Our maid back home in India loved those brushes - helped her get the grease off the pans that my mom would make some of her delicious fried potatoes in. It's an insane brush, full of scraggly wires, tangled together in a huge, confused mess. And it's quite crazy too - light and prickly - empty from the inside, but so noisy that you can't see through it.