Oh, How I Miss My Brain

It’s not that mine is the best brain on the planet… but it’s mine, I”m used to it, and it comes in handy.

And I haven’t seen it in a while.  

It’s not that I have NO brain.  It’s just an addled, diminished, burned-out version of the one I had come to know and love  in an “it’s not perfect but it’s mine” sort of way), and I miss the original model.

Do you remember those ads about “This is your brain on drugs?”  Well, “this is my brain on family overload” — weak, paltry, sluggish and M-I-A.

I haven’t written.  I’ve done nothing creative.  I’ve lost my moorings, my anchor, and my sense of self.  All in the (martyred) service of family celebrations.  

Hopefully I haven’t been a martyr every minute.  I actually have had a blast celebrating and reveling in various milestones for various loved ones.  

But I can’t keep it up.  I have to get back to normal.  I have to return to going to bed early, getting up early, quiet morning prayer times, disciplined writing, an orderly desk, food in the refrigerator, living out of “enough is enough” as a mantra.

I’m remembering the Berenstain Bears, who always seemed to have a book about everything nettlesome I encountered in parenting or life.   If there is a book in that series that describes how I am feeling today, I’d vote to call it “Too Much Celebration,” and the annotation would read, “Mother Bear, Father Bear, Sister Bear and Brother Bear find that there is such a thing as too many cakes, too many celebrations, too many gifts, too much money pouring out, and too much excitement, as they yearn for the boring, random Tuesdays of life in their little treehouse.”

I miss my brain.  I miss my random Tuesdays.  I miss options and choices.  I miss writing my blog.


Verisimilitude of My Brain

Verisimilitude of My Brain

~ by Cary on July 21, 2009.

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