I’ve been, per my usual, consuming a large quantity of articles on a number of subjects and, like a squirrel stashes nuts, bits and pieces of information have been stored in my brain.
Do you know that feeling of standing in the middle of a number of live electrical wires, dancing around your feet, and you’re waiting for them to connect?
Is that just me?
Let me try something else, then.
My brain is like an apothecary cabinet… everything gets labeled and categorized in separate drawers.
Periodically, the cabinet decides to upend itself, and all the information that I’ve been storing (again, like a squirrel… or an apothecary, I guess…) gets dumped out onto the floor, and my mind starts resorting everything.
These are the times that I want to sit in bed with my laptop and a never-ending supply of tea and sandwiches from Jimmy Johns (cut into small, easily managed sections) so I can get all of my thoughts out and recategorized. Of course, most workplaces would not understand if one were to call in and say, “I can’t come to work today… I must recategorize my brain. You understand, of course.”
Honestly, I find these occasions ridiculously exciting, and during these times, I could probably chop down entire forests by myself with the amount of (nerdy) adrenaline coursing through my veins.
I’ve recently been considering the subjects of women (particularly in the area of word choices), the sexualization of young girls, trafficking/ the sex industry/ sex culture, and why we can’t wear hats anymore.
Okay, I’ll admit it, the hats might not connect with the other wires, but seriously, ladies, can we bring back the hats, please? They’re not just for Easter and wedding and funerals! You CAN wear a hat to the grocery store! I happen to be wearing a small crocheted beret as we speak!
Over the next few weeks, I’m planning to get all of those thoughts out on paper (and by paper, I mean this blog, but you, of course, knew precisely what I meant without my having to explain), so we’ll see what happens.
I promise nothing earth shattering.
We must all learn to manage our expectations.
In closing: HATS, ladies.
*Apothecary cabinet image respectfully (perhaps even lovingly) borrowed from Wallwoodworks on Etsy.