You Just Read My Mind

I was doing some dusting up in my brain a short time ago, and as I cleared some of the cobwebs, I thought that I would go one step further and follow up by leaving a few streaks of the lemon scented Pledge behind along the membrane. You know, kind of freshen up the joint a bit. A panoramic view, shot like a low budgeted movie, filmed boxes and boxes of junk that I stored up there which triggered a thought of possibly having a garage sale.  Now, who, in their right mind, would purchase things stored up in my mental attic for years? Craigslist would have had the bar raised for trashy items peddled on that site if that were the case. A can o’ SPAM invite if I ever saw one.

 In fact, some of the items smelled like mothballs which lead me to think to myself, what GREAT ideas did I have to preserve that I needed to ward off moths?  I seriously laughed out loud when I walked over to the motherboard and found the operating system of Windows 98. That explains in detail how my brainpower ran so efficiently.  Apparently I never invested in the extended warranty, though, because a few “viruses” seemed to take some of the files (brain cells) hostage.

 Shuffling around a little more, it appeared that an offer, in post card form, was mailed to P.O. Box Insanity entitled “Tired of Annoying Pop Ups?” It puzzled me how I could have gotten on a mailing list targeted towards ADHD. Burning a fuse was not on my list of things to do so I immediately ended the thought process. Not all together, mind you, just on that issue.  Possibly a make-shift sign that reads, “NO SOLICITATION” will do away with some of these starving salesmen that knock on the ol’ frontal lobes to make their quota on house calls; except if they come to offer a package deal in the installment of a vending machine that houses a little get-up-and-go juice for the think tank.

That drill I was eyeing a few Christmases back sure would have come in handy after spotting a screw or two loose in the drywall which held up a picture or two of my childhood.  I have to admit that even as a wee lad I could never get away from the paparazzi.  Either that or my brain was quite the creeper and took snapshots of me when I was younger.  No magnetic force is drawing me to either one of the previously stated options.  I would have taken a pencil and check marked N/A by either selection, but the “make a mental note” option doesn’t seem to be top priority up here.  Over a hot cup of coffee, or some other highly-fueled caffeine liquid, I’ll have to bring up the awareness to start making that a practice. 

 A huge revelation fell upon me as I discovered the subscription to the GPS had expired.  Soooo thaaaat’s why I can never find my car in a parking lot, or downloading error occurs when deciphering map quest.  The pieces of the puzzle are starting to come together to make the likeness of an outlined wheelchair symbolizing handicapped.  Central Intelligence Agents on a lunch break for an undetermined amount of time, and a very low watt bulb has been screwed in its place. 

Unfortunately for me, what you just read is the result of when have a faceoff with your computer screen for a few hours straight, and you allow it to say, “Why don’t I start for a change.” BIG MISTAKE!