Who Insulated My Synapses?

Flooding in the Rogue Valley. I widened a ditch a little this morning, curing the problem as far as I’m concerned. The rest of the world can take care of whatever pooling & rising waters are left; I know I did my part.

Brain is crumbly. Overcooked, maybe. I should probably melt some cheese over it so that it looks better on the plate and is easier to eat. Or finish my coffee. Or something.

*gapes, uncomprehending, at the computer screen*

*waits*

Nope. That’s all I can squeeze out of my skull. My brain feels like an old person in a bathrobe and carpet slippers shuffling aimlessly through a cluttered room, muttering to himself.

Crossposted from Epinepherine & Sophistry

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