Chrome Toilet Handle

VideoJoeKnows to the rescue!

According to San Diego County, an estimated one in four Latino adults suffers from a mental disorder, but we Latinos often don’t seek help due to cultural stigmas. In my family, obsessive-compulsive disorder is the crazy skeleton in the closet (though a different term is probably needed, since our closets are jam-packed, Hoarders-style).

Out of the OCD piñata, procrastination is my candy of choice. Give me the most complicated task or seemingly impossible feat and I’ll ace it with one hand tied behind my back. Programming my week to wash three loads of clothes—one white, one black and one multicolored, as I’m a regular George Wallace when it comes to laundry: Now that’s another story.

It’s only when I feel that my room is starting to eat me alive and when I’m hopped up on Wal-Mart brand instant coffee (which I theorize is laced with crank) that I do something about it. Case in point: About 10 months ago, my toilet’s handle broke. I did my business and flushed, and it broke off in my hand, forcing me to take the lid off and manually irrigate it by pulling the chain.

“I’ll fix it later,” I said.

Six months went by and later still hadn’t come. Yes, there was something refreshing in dipping my hand inside the john’s water-filled tank every time I went—I saw it half-full, if you will. I even started thinking about the ritual as a pre-handwashing technique, but I knew it wasn’t normal.