My name is Lindsay and this is just so I don't feel guilty for not keeping a written journal...

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

egg brain

Remember those old commercials...

This is your brain.


This is your brain on drugs.

*egg in a hot frying pan*

...If they added a line about me-

This is Lindsay's brain on a Thursday afternoon.

*scrambled egg being served to a dozen wild monkeys*

Just over a week ago I was calmly nodding along with others talking about school starting this week.  "Oh how the Summer sailed by..." we chatted.  But in my egg-brain the conversation was different.  AW DANG.  THIS IS SOMETHING I'M SUPPOSED TO BE AWARE OF, ISN'T IT.  ....I THINK I'LL MAKE MY WAY TO THE STORE AND BUY SOMMME ...PENCILS??? 

Brenda did make it to school, in one peace, with most of her listed supplies.  She couldn't have been more proud of her new angry birds shirt.  If it wasn't for social graces and hygiene she'd grow old in it.

School starts on Friday for Garret and I just need to make sure I have a clean shirt for him.  Can I handle that?

And as sweet as it is to have two kids headed back to school, I don't believe it'll do my egg-brain any good.  A recent personality test has informed me that my scrambled brain is a wonderful, permanent part of me and ought to be celebrated.

I forgot to buy bread today. 



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