Monday, September 20, 2010

Space Case

I don't know if I've mentioned it yet or not, but I've had a sinus infection/headache/invasion for the past month or so now. No, that's not true. I know I've mentioned it, but I'm still waiting for someone to feel sorry enough for me that he sends me a Get Well Chocolate Basket. Or Get Well Boots. Perhaps a Get Well Vespa? Whatever you're most comfortable with--I'm not picky.

Anyway, when I have issues in my upper respiratory region, I always feel like a complete zombie. My head is so clogged that it takes me at least 20 seconds to process the words that were spoken before I realize that someone has asked me a question. I feel like a social pariah. Wait is the word social necessary there or is it kind of understood given that pariah means: any person or animal that is generally despised or avoided? Um, this line of thought is kind of supporting that outcast label isn't it? Back to the point--which is this: I am having a very hard time keeping up with the world around me.

Not that there's anything really abnormal about that. Being a person in possession of an introverted personality and a tendency to lean toward exaggerated narration, I am frequently lost inside my own brain when I should be focusing on my surroundings. Andy likes to tell anyone who will listen that if a 757 were trying to make an emergency landing on a road on which I was driving, all the cars around me would be moving out of the way while I carried on in my merry, oblivious way. To hear him tell it, I wouldn't know what was going on until I saw the pilot's eyes in my rear view mirror when I went to change lanes. I have tried to deny, deny, deny; but over the years, the evidence has continued to mount in support of his charges.Take for instance this kindergarten class photo.

Do you see me? A little closer view, perhaps?

Yep, it would seem that I'm in my own little universe there. I can't refute such hard evidence, so I've lost the will to argue the point. I mean why waste energy on a losing battle when I can focus instead on making my husband feel sorry for my poor sick self? Cough. Cough. I believe the number you're looking for dear is 1-800-FLOWERS.

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