Brain bubbles pop when you least expect it.
You can be going along with all those ducks in a line - it may be a wobbly line, but it's a line just the same - and suddenly your brain decides to vacate the premises. Where it goes, I've no idea, so I can't go looking for it. I can do nothing but sit in my recliner with a glazed looked on my face.
I think I've perfected the ability to sleep with my eyes open.
It's not a true sleep, you understand. Rather, it's the ability to go stone cold blank with the motor still running.
It's not a good thing.
I've been fighting a bum knee for a while now and last week one afternoon it got the best of me. It was late, so I went home. Only the bubble popped early and I left without any of my stuff. Like my glasses. And since I'm next to blind without them, it could have been a scary ride home without my sunglasses.
I blame the part of my brain that fought for mastery, telling me to go home, rest and come back to work. With that in mind, I took off. I could have sworn I heard giggling inside my head.
Whatever it is in your brain that sends the "almost dreams" into your mind must have been the voice tricking me into leaving all my stuff behind. It's like a naughty child trying to trick you out of punishing her.
If none of this makes sense to you, imagine what it feels like on the inside of my head.
So, I'm going to quit thinking and send along part of an e-mail I got the other day. I may have shared something like this before, but they're fun just the same.
When you are sad, I will jump on the person who made you sad like a spider monkey jacked up on Mountain Dew.
When you are blue, I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.
When you smile, I will know you are plotting something that I must be involved in.
When you're scared, we will high tail it out of here.
When you are worried, I will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be until you quit whining, ya big baby.
When you are confused, I will use little words.
When you are sick, stay away from me until you are well again. I don't want whatever you have.
When you fall, I'll pick you up and dust you off and we will both laugh like crazy.
I like to laugh, so that should be fun.
Joyce DeHaan retired as executive director of the Domestic/Sexual Assault Outreach Center last Friday. When I talked to her to write the retirement story, something she said made good sense, though I seldom allow myself to do it.
Joyce said she believes that to be helpful to others, to work well and do a good job, you've got to have a full cup. I understand the full cup theory better since I went home with the bum peg a few days back.
The first few hours at home I sat in my recliner moaning - and I don't think it was under my breath. I even refused to crawl out of the chair and go to the kitchen for supper.
After a long rest and some marvelous muscle relaxants, I was ready to go back to work. Since it was 9 o'clock at night, that wasn't such a good idea, but my brain was ready to go back.
And this time I planned to wear my glasses.
So long friends, until the next time when we're together.
Contact Sandy Mickelson at (515) 573-2141 or firstname.lastname@example.org