My Brain, the Dandelion

This is my mind recently. Image source.

My husband and I were talking yesterday as we walked home from brunch. As we crossed the street, I said to him, “oh, man, this would make a great Medium post. Remember this conversation. I’ve been writing too much depressing political stuff. This will help break up the misery.”

I even recited my final paragraph to him, the pithy summation of my brilliant thoughts that would make all of you chuckle and click the recommendation heart.


This morning, brushing my hair in front of the mirror while he finished scrubbing his hair in the shower, I said, “crap, Mike, do you remember what that Medium post I was supposed to write was about?”

We both paused for a moment, dredging up the moment of us crossing the road, and were absolutely unable to remember the brilliant topic I had concocted that would have brought all of you joy.

So, instead, you get this.

My brain is a dandelion, dried up from summer. I’ll be better when the clocks change back and spring resurfaces, promise.

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