My Bad, It’s Just a Brain Fart


I ventured out this morning to get my sis’s prescriptions and some Zyrtec allergies. Today is the first day that everyone in my county is required to wear some type of a face mask when out and about at the grocery store, etc..  I have one left over from the fires of 2018.

The deaths in our county are hovering just under 750 people. I know that because my daily newspaper dedicates a page to the Coronavirus, showing every county in the state of California and how many cases and how many deaths.

That doesn’t seem too bad when LA has over 15,000 cases and almost 700 deaths. We can thank London Breed, the mayor of San Francisco, for shutting down the city early. The rest of the Bay Area counties followed suit, so our numbers are much lower than Southern California numbers.

It’s not like it’s a competition or anything. Just sayin . . .

But I digress. The real point of this post is that I have been having some regular brain farts this week, and it’s only Wednesday!  Yesterday I commented on a grammar page on Facebook that a person could replace parentheses with ellipses . . .

I got called out on my example when I used an em dash instead —.

You always get called out on the English language Police page if you are incorrect.

I apologized for my error and chalked it up to a brain fart. After all, they are both punctuation terms, and they both start with the letter E.

But then today, on the way home from the pharmacy, a good fast song came on the radio, and I said to myself, Footloose.  That got me to thinking about Kevin Bacon and the article I read yesterday in AARP about how his marriage with Kyra Sedgwick has survived many years, even though they both lost their fortunes to the Bernie Madoff ponzi scheme.

Then, as I crossed the pedestrian trail crossing with flashing lights, I snapped back to the present and heard the song. It wasn’t Footloose. It was Flash Dance.

Okay, they are both movie songs, both fast songs about dancing, and they both have two syllables and start with the letter F.

So, am I becoming senile? Or is it Lockdown Brain? Early Alzheimer’s? No joking, folks I don’t like it.

The other night on Jeopardy (yes, I watch it), the answer to a question was, “Who is   . . .?

Wait, I’ll remember . . . just give me a minute. It was a female celebrity, a TV actress, someone that I like . . .  do you think I can remember who it was? Of course I can’t. That was two days ago! I can’t remember whom I can’t remember!

Sadly, as I sort through tubs of stuff I never should’ve paid for to be moved nine years ago, my brain is having lots of Covid-19 farts.

Maybe it’s from being alone 24/7, with only my two dogs and their limited vocabularies.

For me, it is Week Six of the lockdown, since I started early, on March 6th. What will my brain be like six more weeks from now, when I am still in lockdown mode, and my house will be purged of everything I don’t need or want or that none of my children will claim?

Thank you for suffering through this post with me. I really needed someone to talk to.

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