The brain damage thing, you know that time my head blew up and all I got was a bunch of medication (and a bad attitude?) has made me hyper-aware (I would have loved using “hella” there, but No Doubt wrecked that for us. Thanks Gwen!) of my head. As you read this, or have it read to you, I shouldn’t assume that everyone who has access to the internet can read (If you’ve ever read any dating website profiles will know that sadly, this is not the case.) picture your actual head as it rests on your neck or however it is you are holding it up to experience this written word.
Now you can’t stop thinking about your head, right?
I mostly know where my head is, but I keep crashing it into things, mostly because I’m not paying attention. This morning I sliced a wedge into the tip of my finger when I knocked a glass off of the counter while I was trying to make coffee. I did not knock it off with my head, that would be difficult even for me. No, I have a Keurig which is next to the bookshelf because I had to move it when the sink was fixed six months ago. I haven’t moved it back because I am a sack of slack. So as I was adjusting the water level so I could wait for the wonder machine to extrude my coffee, I knocked over a glass as I was trying to avoid smacking my head on the shelf.
I lacerated my finger so badly that it actually dripped blood on my face as I put on makeup. I had it wrapped in a tissue because I couldn’t bandaid it with my non-dominant hand.
As I was daubing the blood off of my face, and smudging said make-up, I noticed that my jaw-line is breaking out in weird little bumps. Just on one side.
I thought both sides of my head go to the same places so why would just one side be breaking out?
So even when I’m aware of my head, I can’t seem to face what it does. (I know, terrible pun, I couldn’t resist.)
Writer Chick 