I gots no brainage left. No siree! There’s nothing left. All the gray matter done tumbled out that hole in the back of my noggin. That hole I can’t seem to find. It’s elusive like the smarts I used to be so-so proud of. I reveled in it. Gloried in it. I had so much intelligence going for me.
My mom always says that with every time you pee on that stick (you know, the one that tells you if there’s a little parasite in there that will be sucking the life out of you from now until the cows come home), a little bit of your brain falls out. At least, I think that’s who says that. At this point there’s no accounting for anything that I say or who I quote on any topic because I’ve peed on so many preggo tests in my time that if I had a dollar for every one of them, I’d be a wealthy woman. As for the cranial loss… maybe it only counts when the test is positive, but that still accounts for my current state of mental… This go ’round has been confirmed by not the 2-pack, but the 5-pack, ladies and gentlemen, the 5-freakin’-pack! And Jim was still not convinced, but that’s another story. Maybe for another time.
I recently aquired outside employment. I’m attepmtting to learn the office ropes at a vet’s office. I had to re-learn how to alphebetize. I, who once upon a time, had the high score in all things academic. Except for, of course Matthew Berman, who is also another story for another time.
But re-learning alphatbetization! People! This is tragic!
Can I get some sympathy?
Or prehaps some special ed?