The human brain is a wonderful thing: working out complex puzzles and making lightening quick decisions without you even realising. It is pretty frightening when you consider than blamonge in your bonce can fire off synapses in milliseconds and can mean the difference between you crossing the road successfully in the morning or being plastered all over the place. Just contemplate that a second. Pretty scary isn’t it when you consider some of the stupid things that you do, even when the old grey matter is supposedly on top form.
This morning, for instance, awoken by my alarm after a paltry four hours sleep , I instantly worked out that I could hit the snooze button a further two times before I REALLY had to get up. Even in my morning state (too terrifying for most people to comprehend) I was pretty amazed by those swift working synapses: working out that the snooze lasts for nine minutes and cross checking that with the time it takes to do the necessary - dressing, eating and plastering of slap in the morning and even factoring in that I’d be slightly quicker as there was no heating on, that old brain of mine allowed me to fall back asleep almost instantly. It was like that scene in Old School, in which Will Ferrell has to deliver a speech about American economic policy and is suddenly overcome with this awesome amount of brain power, like he’d been touched by the hand of God or something. That was just like me this morning.
When I woke up proper and contemplated what a sly little bastard my brain has been all these years, hiding away such a little talent like that, I was a little pissed off. All those years of taking me an age to do the simplest things because old grey up there couldn’t be arsed to process information that little bit quicker, all that time wasted: I felt cheated. I’m not sure if it was a case of the mind was willing and the body wasn’t, which explains the gargantuan grump I am most mornings, but still, I was a little overcome by my own self. You’ve heard of the term ‘flash of genius’, well I was privy to it, and it felt good.
I only wish my head would behave like this for the rest of the day. Maybe, if I could get even get a few flashes of genius in a day I would avoid doing all those embarrassing and stupid things that my day to day seem to be made of. It would be great. I wouldn’t have made the frankly disastrous choice to take a teaching a course six months ago, that provided enough stress and anxiety to make a nun ‘go postal’. I wouldn’t have wasted two and a bit hours of my life the other night on the ridiculous rental of The Illusionist, and would have spent that time doing something worthy and important...maybe. Such quick fire activity would have meant that in a particularly heavy rainstorm a couple of months ago, I would have hit the brakes on my car that bit sooner and wouldn’t have ploughed into the car in front. The absence in that moment of a speedy brain function meant that a few days later, I had to turn down the advances of the bloke that I hit, although I’m pretty sure that this particular gentleman used the ‘quick breaking/girl hitting car/girl distressed that she might have hurt someone’ as a pulling technique. When I inspected the damage he said that the other knocks had been from other accidents. Still I wouldn’t have had to receive a begging telephone call and a text message which went in to a bit too much detail on his life and being told that I ‘seem like a nice girl’: he obviously should meet me on a day that I don’t try to inflict GBH by whiplash on people. I also wouldn’t have been wracked with guilt when I made up some dross that I’m in a relationship and live with my boyfriend, which he probably saw through. Anyway, bumping into someone by accident does not mean they owe you anything. Not even a blowjob.
I need a brain to keep up with me. I need it to work doubly hard everyday to keep up with me. Hopefully that way I’d avoid accidents and all the stupid decisions which plague my life. I’d even settle for one flash of apparent speedy thought a day. It would save me from myself.
