Somedays, I want very much to write. I want to think of something clever or poignant or funny.

But then I have days like today.

My mind is full of clutter. A clutter of thoughts, distractions and lists. I have a continuous list of things I need to do, another list of things I want to do and finally a list of things I am sure I will never get to. I am visually distracted by my environment and I process all that visual input. The bed is not made, the shoes on the floor, the trash in the can, the hand prints on the light switch. I notice the burnt out light bulbs in the chandelier. As a side note, I think my house has an unreasonable appetite for incandescent light bulbs. I have a grocery list in constant assembly in my head: toothpaste, milk, razors, onions, paper towels, Texas toast, and more. I am constantly planning meals and menus. My pantry is perpetually ready for a hurricane. At one time I also had the running checkbook in my head. A year ago, I abdicated that chore to my husband. I remember phone numbers from childhood.

I also do this mental numbers puzzle in my head whenever I encounter a numbers combination. I call them “reductions”. I have done this since elementary school. If I see a series of numbers like 45,673. I will work to reduce that number down to 3. It works like this: 6+3=9. 45 divided by 9=5. 5+7=12. 1+2 =3. Weird.

But that is my brain. Cluttered and tinkering away. It is like a clockmaker’s shop. All the clocks ticking at different times. Buried in all that noise is a rhythm, a motion. It is complicted and intricate, but fascinating. Sometimes it is just plain NOISY.

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