OK.......what was I saying?

Since I have discovered the key to my several week long yo-yo trauma with the 3 pounds from hell, my body has responded by letting go of what seems like an unholy volume of liquid. Who would have known that baked Lays could illicit that kind of fluid retention. Certainly not me........my brain has been misplaced somewhere. I'm not kidding.......I'm brain-less right now. I think that in and amongst all this peeing, I'm losing a few brain cells. They are floating away like so much flotsam to the sea.

To give you an example, I have taken to having conversations with my niece Ellen without the benefit, or in fact, the necessity, of her actual, what?..... presence?. Riding home from the movies today, discussing the basic plot points and emotional punctuations, I leaned back and asked Ellen if she cried when Edward left. The only problem with this little pow-wow was that Ellen was driving home with her husband, traveling at high speed, in the opposite direction. I had said goodbye to her 15 minutes earlier. Somewhere between the restaurant and movie theater, my brain clearly fell... the.... fuck.... out.

OK....what was I saying?

Oh yes......the movies, and my general state of brainlessness. As frightened as I am of losing whats left of my fucking marbles, I am more frightened by the generations coming up behind me, and the vast majority of the public at large who are convinced that looking to the left is simply not necessary when making a right hand turn. At least I have a few brain cells left to lose, I wasn't born without them, and more often than not LOOK IN MY FUCKING REAR VIEW MIRROR when backing up. I'm just sayin' people. You know who you are.

OK....what was I saying?

Oh yes....the movies. So I'm sitting there in the dark. The movie theater is quite full, and despite numerous requests to turn off cell phones and refrain from texting, the theater is full of painfully thin 15 year old girls who periodically light up like clear blue beacons in the night sky. There they are....the whole theater aware of them as they're bathed in blue glow, madly working their thumbs. Now I ask you. These young girls paid to watch this movie just like I did. You know they aren't receiving an emergency text from home saying grandpa had a stroke......they are OMG-ing and WTF-ing and C U L8R-ing their way through the movie they drove to,and paid to see. I fear for this generation, and hopefully I will remember just enough to fling my bedpan at them when I'm in the home and these girls are the food service technicians and custodial staff.

I'm home now, and the doors are locked effectively keeping the world out there and not in here. I need to breathe and center and call the restaurant to see if anyone found a brain in the ladies room where I was madly waving my hands in front of the paper towel sensor before realizing there was a fucking button to press. Bastard paper towel dispenser manufacturer bastards. Why must they confound me at every turn. Do they not realize that I'm brain-less and in need of dry hands and not inspired to break in to an impromptu interpretive dance in front of a paper towel dispenser with a misleading red laser eye like button on the front.

OK.....what was I saying?

Oh yes.........the ladies room. I gotta pee.