Strange Dreams

There's something wrong with my brain. Circuits aren't working correctly, my memory is going. I've been worried about it, and as with anything that causes worry, it manifests itself in the most ... interesting ... dreams.

Last night was a doozy.

It was a reunion party, a reunion of all my old High School friends, in some kind of weird apartment/house with circular stairs leading up to the second story, and I came down the stairs past all these achingly familiar faces, smiling at them all but unable to remember their names.

Got down to the living room on the bottom floor and they were all standing around talking to each other and having a wonderful time; and suddenly Cheryl was there, and they asked her why I was acting so odd, so distant, and she explained to them that I had suffered some kind of brain damage or something; and then I laid down on the floor and assumed a motionless pose while trying to remember any of their names; and everyone walked around me, continuing to enjoy the party.

It feels like brain damage, this inability to remember things. It may be due to all the medications taken for allergies or headaches; it may be due to complete laziness on my part, owing to my focus on work and family exclusive of most everything else. I've always had problems remembering things, especially when in front of crowds. Going to church can be a real challenge because even after three years of being at the same place with all the same people, it is difficult to remember their names.

And lyrics! Even with the songs posted on the walls, even after singing them over and over again, year after year, my brain can't remember them. When I'm doing the children's class in the morning, after all this time, I still need the words in front of me to do our traditional closing song. And I've known it since before we left Seattle.

I'm hoping it's just laziness, some little switch that hasn't been turning on inside my brain because I've forgotten how. But it hasn't turned on, even after hours and hours of practice.

It used to be easy to memorize things, back during high school. All that was required was repetition. Now the repetition doesn't seem to help.

Which reminds me of how I used to write songs. Songs - and stories - can't be written when life gets too busy. My brain does not multitask well. The best songs or stories I've ever written were done during times when there was really nothing else going on in my life. The few months spent in Joplin, Missouri, back in 1987 (?) were probably the most productive because it was just me and my guitar and my little typewriter. Ever since then, though, it's been difficult to find any quality time to just stop everything and think.

Some people manage to do it, even with family and job and church and other social activities. I don't know how they do it. To come up with anything of a creative nature, my brain requires nearly an entire day of nothingness, no activity, just so the circuits can settle down and clear out all the day-to-day panicky thoughts and the concerns of the moment that keep me from thinking straight.

That also explains my reticence in taking on a more managerial position in the company: it requires too much thought, and intrudes too much on my other goals. When in charge of others, their concerns become my concerns, and they don't stop the moment the car leaves the parking lot. They carry over into the evening, and the weekend, and there is no opportunity to clear the mind and relax.

These past two weeks have been the worst. Two eighty-hour weeks in a row, and there is little left of my brain to offer.

And it's raining outside.