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It’s As If I Had a Lame Lobotomy!

This is dreadful.  What little brain I had seems to have up and deserted me.  At first I thought perhaps it was still partially here, since I am typing quite competently.  Then I remembered:  muscle memory.  It means nothing.

There is little point in even saying, “But I MUST make a post!”  We all know I will not willingly let a day go by without hitting publish on SOMETHING, however lame and foolish.  Waaaait a minute!  Today IS Lame Post Friday!  Now I’m wondering if I shouldn’t re-name it to Foolish Friday and go for that alliteration I so love.

Sometimes when I feel quite brain dead at 4:47 p.m. (according to my computer), I can put off posting till later in the evening.  Occasionally that works out for me and I come up with something not contemptible (don’t ask me for an example; I am certainly not up to searching previous posts much less making a link).  However, today I must head to Much Ado at Herkimer Elks.  We had a dress rehearsal last night.  I had taken a decongestant and was extremely lightheaded, but I managed to say most of my lines correctly.

You know, I’m seeing kind of a head pattern with me lately.  Either I am lightheaded, I have a headache, or I am brain dead.  What the hell, head?  Maybe I have too much hair.  I am getting a haircut tomorrow; maybe that will help.  I am getting a pedicure as well, but I somehow doubt pretty colored toenails will improve anything other than my disposition (still, that is definitely worth improving).  On the brighter side, I will be able to make a blog post about Hot Spot Salon and Spa in Herkimer, where I get my beauty work done (I was going to say I use the term “beauty” loosely as applied to myself, but would that not be insulting to my stylist?  She is pretty awesome).

At least I am over 300 words.  Sometimes we settle for quantity over quality.  If only I could think of a headline, my life would be perfect.


Moronic Monday

Oh dear.  I am so tired I feel I am brain dead.  Do you suppose when they shaved my head they pulled out my brains as well?  Oh, who am I kidding? I never had that many brains to begin with.

The St. Baldrick’s Day event was a great deal of fun.  They exceeded their fundraising goal, and I think everyone enjoyed themselves.  I had a few glasses of wine, some good food and a whole lot of laughs.  Yes, yes, no doubt the wine had something to do with today’s tiredness. These things happen.  What do you expect of me?  Incidentally, I must return to Arthur’s in Dolgeville, NY for lunch or dinner one day soon.  Maybe several days soon, because there was a lot on their menu I’d like to try.

Incidentally, I did do some writing today while on breaks at work.  I worked on my next article for Mohawk Valley Living magazine.  It needs more work.  That brain dead thing is kind of doing me dirt.  You may have noticed.

So today is supposed to be Monday Mental Meanderings, but once again I do not have the mental resources to meander with.  I believe this has happened to me before, although I can’t be sure (being, as I am, largely brain dead, did I mention that?).   I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again:  Sorry folks; hope I’ll see you again tomorrow.


It Wasn’t Jack Daniels

Anybody who saw yesterday’s post, about how busy I was and that I was hosting a gathering last night, will not be surprised that today is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I hesitate to share the information, though, because people always get the impression that you behaved MUCH more badly than you actually did. Admit it, some of you are picturing me dancing on tables drinking Tequila straight from the bottle. You think I ended the evening on the bathroom floor, only happy that I made it upstairs and the toilet is handy.

Well you can quit trolling YouTube for embarrassing videos of me that you can submit to World’s Dumbest (although part of me would be thrilled to be included on my favorite show). I wasn’t that bad. And I don’t feel that bad today. I’m just tired, drained and a little brain dead. Typical Sunday these days, no matter what kind of Saturday I’ve had.

But here’s a bit of half-baked philosophy for me to consider on some future Lame Post Friday: why do people so often assume that other people are more drunk than they really are? It has happened to me more than once: somebody looks at a picture of me with a big smile on my face and says, “I guess you were drunk.” Is my life so pathetic that people think the only reason I would have to smile so widely is Jack Daniels?

I’ll speculate on possible answers another time. In fact, at last night’s very enjoyable gathering, I don’t think anybody took any pictures, so I have no big wide grins to explain. And I’ve managed to type in over 200 words, so I’m back to enjoying my Sunday. I hope you are, too.