tangential

I was just reading outside on a blanket with Davey and I remembered: the cookies! I burned not one batch but two today, and I wonder why, once they're hopelessly burned, I still rush to pull them out?

It's been a good weekend, for a number of reasons. My legs hurt every time I take a step and I walk like I have to go to the bathroom (for those of you who know my brain, this sentence is not the logical progression from the previous. Maybe we'll get there a few lines down, but I take what the old machine gives me and don't ask questions. Actually, I was thinking the other day about how I've never really thought to curb the randomness of my brain; people say either, "you are so frustrating to talk to, can't you focus?" or, "ha ha you're so random I love it" in that tone that lets you know a "bless your heart" might be coming up next. And my response is usually, "I know, right?" My favorite all-purpose response, currently. But even though my thoughts come out like people rushing from a burning building, I can't help but account for them and try to get them to stand in neat lines like we did in elementary school. My brain has been infiltrated by the MAN! For example, right now, I am aware that I haven't explained why my legs hurt (because I ran a whoppin' 20 minutes) and that I haven't given any of the number of reasons why it's been a good weekend (conference, family, yada yada yada), and I won't be able to finish the blogpost in good conscience until I trace back all the threads I dropped from my pockets. Thoughts, unlike cookies, are not usually burned when I'm late getting back to them, though they're sometimes very irrelevant. The phone is ringing, and since I'm at my father's house I never answer it. David answered it--oh dear, he's given up on me and the blankets since I've been away all this time typing on my blog about how I forget to return.)