Sometimes I don’t understand my own brain at all.
I know I’m not a dumb person.
I’m well read. I enjoy trivia. I feel I have a relatively high social IQ. With the exception of math, I did really well in school.
Regardless, I’m constantly finding myself in situations where I OBVIOUSLY did not use my brain to it’s full potential.
I’m constantly coming down stairs after a two-hour nap to find potatoes exploded in the oven, or pots of evaporated water on medium-high burners. I drive miles in the dark, thinking my eyes have gone bad, only to get home and realize my headlights were off the entire time.
There was even the time I drove all the way to CVS to get a redbox movie, only to discover I’d forgotten to put on pants.
I just had one of those moments.
I spent an hour on the phone with a man I have been trying to get for a bit on the radio show. He was friendly enough, but the conversation somehow went from “tantric sex,” to an astrology lesson. Intriguing as it was, I’m tired and have been on a constant search for gigs for extra money and I kind of needed to wrap up the conversation to get back to Craigslist, when my phone cut out.
I figured it had just ran out of battery as it so often does, so using my noggin, I plugged it in. Nothing.
I took out the battery and tried again. Nada.
After an hour of plugging and unplugging my phone, I came to the conclusion that my phone had died forever. IT DIED.
I emailed my dad and dramatically let him know that he would never be able to talk to me again. I told him it was nice talking to him for the thirty years we’ve had together, and that I would miss him gravely. My phone plan isn’t due an upgrade until May. He wrote back letting me know that I had been paying for insurance on my phone for the last five years, and that I could, as I have numerous times before, simply get a replacement phone for free.
So I dragged my ass up to the sprint store to see what they could do.
I impatiently waited for five minutes until it was my turn, and FINALLY told the clerk that my phone had passed on. I made sure to include the fact that I was just sitting there on a VERY important work call when it passed away. I hadn’t dropped it or spilt wine on it once today. He was very kind. He took the phone from me and plugged it in to his mini charger on the stand.
It lit up right away.
I thanked him and let him know that I was very thankful for all of his hard work, purchased a charger, and returned home full of embarrassment and glee. Before opening my new, impossible to unwrap without scissors, charger, I decided to inspect the old one to see if I could tell how it was defective.
Upon picking it up and taking it to the couch, I realized it wasn’t even plugged in to the wall.
That, my friends, is severe lack of brain power. Or maybe there is a ghost or something fucking with me.