If You Read This, You're A Sucker

My brain has taken leave of me of this afternoon. At first I was annoyed by this new circumstance, because I lost my beloved stapler and forgot the Palinode's name. I tried to write an e-mail and lost sight of my purpose after typing the lamest opening line (long time, no see!). But then, my brain hiccoughed and burped out a couple of reasonable thoughts, and after holding them next to each other for a few minutes, I came to see that my brain deserves a bit of a holiday: today is the first day of my period, I was thoroughly colposcoped yesterday, my new anti-depressant's brain-erasing side effect is not quite through with me yet, and I haven't slept more than four hours in a row for months. I think that it was the colposcopy that really put me over the tipping point, though. Seeing those metal scrapey-looking instruments next to the table threw me into a dream-like, dizzy state, and I haven't quite come back from it.

Bye bye, my little lobes! Stay moist!

In other news, of which you may already be aware, I have rearranged some things around here, one of which is the links I collect on a near daily basis. They were once in my sidebar but can now be found through the link called 50 links at the top of the page, unless you don't care, of course, and in which case, screw you. Or, I mean, don't screw you, because I put out good links for you, and you should go look at how I made del.icio.us behave the way I wanted it to on the page.

I wrote which three times in the previous paragraph, and two of them were in a single sentence. Mea maxima culpa.


Okay, I wrote that also about five minutes ago, and then I found myself wandering down a hallway picking broccoli out of my teeth. Perhaps I am suffering from PCSD (post-colposcopic stress disorder). Isn't beer supposed to be good for that sort of thing? I'm certain that it is. Also, I'm fairly sure that I read somewhere that doing laundry and vacuuming cat fur out of household crevices is contraindicated in such situations. Am I right? Absolutely. That kind of thing could cause severe PCD (post-colposcopic depression) or worse, and we can't have that.

It's a good thing I know how to take care of myself.

Sing Along With Schmutzie!