brain drain

sometimes my brain cells start fleeing from my head. like if i'm around an incredibly dull person or a group of such people. or if i'm watching a really stupid show on the television. i literally feel my smart cells parachuting from my ears, or dribbling outta my nose, or drooling down my chin. my head lists to one side {further proof that there is an imbalance going on in there} and my eyes glaze over and i hear a rush of blood {which i'm sure that ruuuuuuuushing sound is the clamor of all those smart brain cells staging mass evacuation}.

this is the dumb-cow look.

you've seen it, i'm sure. it's the look of an overtaxed student valently struggling to grasp that nebulous concept and then just sorta giving up. it's the look of a bubble-headed waitress who doesn't understand why the icecream on your slice of pie melted when she microwaved it so that the pie would be nice and warm, just like you ordered. it's the look of our last president, and our former vice-president {quayle, the spelling whiz}, and oh so many of our elected congressmen when faced with any sort of challenging task; like answering a reporter's question.

today, i think the dumb-cow look took up temporary residence on my own face for a short time around 8pm. my brain had drained from an afternoon of exhausting decisions and careful considerations. i knew it was time to take a break, to halt today's activities, and get some rest. so my jerry took me to wendy's and let me eat disgustingly fattening french-fries and then brought me home so that i can tuck myself into bed and get a good night's sleep.

tomorrow's a new day, bright with possibilities, and lurking in the shadows are those hidden pratfalls that trip up yer brain, and drain it.