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Where Is My Brain?

I find myself saying this to myself quite often now.

Where is my brain?

As if my brain would come out and tell me where it is. Clearly it's hiding. Perhaps it's on vacation. I think it knows the baby's coming and so it better get out of town now while the gettin' is good — or I would think, if I could find my brain to think this with.

There was the trip to the supermarket where I triumphantly, purposefully, finally bought a replacement filter for a Brita water pitcher (we'd gone without filtered water for weeks) and got home to find that we have a Pur filter system, attached to our kitchen tap no less.

I knew that.

There was the swim class two weeks ago where I kept having to unlock the locker, not once, not twice, but four times, because I kept forgetting to put things in it. All of these things (bag, towel, etc.) were on the same bench behind me. Each time, I'd pick up one, put it away, and think: A-ha! Done, now I can go and swi — and as I'd turn around to walk away from the locker, there would be another thing on the bench, like I'd never seen it before. Surprise! Put me away.

And then this week, I managed to get all the way to the gym and into the locker room before realizing that I'd left my swimsuit at home.Hello?

I ask you: Where is my brain?

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