brain dead
i’ve come to the conclusion that having a toddler and a newborn has the same effect on your brain as long term pot-smoking and shroom taking.
not that i ever took shrooms.
i am however convinced that i will never be interesting, smart, witty, snarky or remotely sexy again. like yeah, my stomach is flat now, but i have outrageous stretch marks. seriously, it looks like bunny was trying to claw his way out.
and i’m noticing that i cannot have a conversation, not one fucking conversation with anyone, and not mention my kids.
i stop changing channels when i see a kids show. like i’d rather watch Curious George than The Daily Show, not!
i’m best left sitting in a corner and smiling and just nodding and agreeing with people. my glassy stare isn’t boredom, trust me. the more adults i actually talk to, the better. no, that vacant look is just sleep deprivation.
i’ll probably never read another adult book again. the books i read will just progressively get more age appropriate for my kids, not me. i will however devour In Touch and People because they are pretty and easy to flip though while i’m nursing.
so from here on out, my apologies. whatever appears here will be asinine. it won’t be well thought out. it won’t make a difference at all. all it means is that the brain death hasn’t atrophied my fingers yet.
i knew the ending of Rock of Love 2 with Bret Michaels would bring utter doom.