Hey, Brain, Stop Eating Beans!

I must be consuming a high-fibre intellectual diet, because I’ve been having an awful lot of brain farts lately.

A few weeks ago I was out walking in the park near our place. We’re a friendly bunch here in Calgary, and when we meet fellow walkers we usually offer a ‘hi’ or a ‘good morning’ even if we’re total strangers.

I was striding along, my brain totally wrapped up in a plot point for Book 9, when I noticed this smiling lady approaching me. To normal people, this would be a visual cue that some response would soon be required.

But I think we’ve already established that I’m not normal. She said ‘hi’, and my brain short-circuited.

I knew some response was required but I couldn’t formulate any appropriate words. Fortunately my mouth kicked into gear a moment later and I managed a ‘hi’ in return.  Not exactly complex linguistics, but the amount of effort it took was downright scary.

Then a couple of days later I was deep in writing when I remembered it was bread-baking day. I went down to the kitchen and got out my mixing bowl and spoon, pulled my hair into a ponytail… and started looking for my safety glasses.

That’s not quite as random as it sounds. We’d been trap-shooting a few days previously and it’s reflex to put on my safety glasses when I shoot.  But I don’t know why my brain suddenly decided to substitute ‘shooting glasses’ for ‘apron’.  I’ve never heard of anybody requiring eye protection for flying flour dust.

And I guess I was thoroughly involved in my plotting, because a few days later I flopped onto the couch and moved the TV remote from the seat cushion to the coffee table. Just as I let go of the remote, a sudden urgent thought popped into my mind:  “Oh, shit, I just left fingerprints on the remote!”

That was immediately followed by a facepalm. I’ve lived in this house for sixteen years.  My fingerprints are everywhere.  Since I don’t watch TV they’re not terribly likely to be on the remote, but I’m sure in the course of the last decade or so I’ve handled it a few times.

And anyway, why would it matter? I can’t think of any crimes one could commit effectively with a TV remote.  Bludgeoning someone to death would be unnecessarily laborious, and the batteries’ tiny bit of electricity wouldn’t make them do much more than twitch and squeak…

Ahem.

No, I haven’t spent a lot of time considering this; why do you ask?

I guess there’s always the possibility that Hubby secretly owns a fingerprinting kit and has been trying to catch the malignant ghost that causes his PVR to periodically ditch its programming. But even if I had been the guilty party, I hope the consequences wouldn’t have been too severe.

Then again, messing with a guy’s PVR programming is probably grounds for divorce. (Hubby, if you’re reading this, I didn’t push any buttons.  Honest.  You can dust them for fingerprints if you like.)

Meanwhile, I’m trying to figure out what I can feed my brain that might reduce my cognitive flatulence. Any suggestions?

21 Comments

Filed under Humour, Life, Writing

21 responses to “Hey, Brain, Stop Eating Beans!

  1. I don’t think there’s anything wrong in needing safety glasses when baking bread, Diane. The thought’s never occurred to me before, but I can see the positives. I use a breadmaker, and sometimes I can’t resist the urge to peek into the top to see how things are coming along… you never know, I could have mixed some explosive dough, and just at the moment I look… boom!
    Brain farts are good, anyway. Frightening, like the time I completely forgot a colleague who I sat next to in work, but fun all the same. Thinking novel ways of trying to make the brain fart seem intentional is a good way of handling them, I find…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Remember, the weirder your life gets, the better we like it.

    It’s all about perspective, right? 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I’d like to say there’s nothing wrong with you, because that would make ME feel better. Actually, we’re probably both nuts. And not always in a good way.

    Liked by 1 person

    • True, but the beautiful thing about being a fiction writer is that I have a very active imagination. I can pretend I’m always nuts in a good way. And if I believe it, that’s all that really matters, right? 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  4. All I can say is, I’m glad I’m not the only one. Here’s a tip: Drinking helps. Don’t get me wrong–it doesn’t help the brain farts. But it does make you not care about them as much. Heck, you even start to laugh at them. 😉

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Just wear the safety glasses–you probably need them.

    Like

  6. Do you ever walk into a room to get something then stand there wondering what you went there to get? I seem to do this way too often. Then leave and go back to where you were…10-15 min.-1/2 hour later say OH YEAH.

    There ain’t nothing wrong with you, me on the other hand…LOL

    Like

  7. As long as you don’t cook supper for your dog and put your husband out for the night, you’ll be fine. My human is a writer, too. For you folks, weird is normal.

    Like

  8. Safety glasses in the kitchen? Perfectly legit. Well, in my kitchen anyway.

    The remote control? If you had not moved it from the chair before you sat down, what *other* kind of print would you have left on it?

    You’re okay, kiddo. Perfectly normal. Don’t worry about a thing. Ish.

    Like

  9. moondance4me

    Rutabaga, Diane, lots of Rutabaga. Steamed, fried, mashed, baked, anyway you can consume it, it will totally eliminate all brain “gas”. It might direct it to another part of the body, but your brain will be free of anything noxious. Pretty sure that’s true although I did hear it from an old Cajun fisherman that I’m positive was finishing off about a gallon of “shine” at the time. He was pretty convincing tho’. (lol)

    Like

  10. I think your brain is functioning perfectly normally. For a writer, that is. Writers brains are wired differently, right? 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

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