My Brain is Full

I came to an important conclusion sometime today. My brain is full. After pumping a critique partner's brain for specialized job information last night, then having critique group at which I had to talk about process, and carry that over to a day spent researching facts I need to know for a current project, I hit my limit.

For those who know me, when I tell you that all of the facts I had to find had numbers in them, you will know what those horrible sounds coming from my office were. Especially when I have to see if the numbers will play nice with each other and find a way to explain why things have to happen even if the numbers normally would not get along. Did I ever mention that in college, I failed the supereasy math class twice? Yes, I was trying. I do not have a number center in my brain. I traded it in for more story space. This is why I can memorize shipping routes in the 16th century, all of Henry VIII's wives, in order, with the reason he was no longer married to each one of them, and carry long lists of song lyrics in my head but cannot remember street names in the town where I live.

I've been listening to a new playlist while writing this week (because it took me this long to figure out how to access the subscription feature on Yahoo Jukebox) and only today have I been able to remind myself that the weird sound at the end of "One Week" by Barenaked Ladies is not the cat throwing up. The cat is very glad I have figured this out.

This morning when checking the weather forecast, my brain somehow read "65" as "85" so of course I dressed for near ninety degree weather, and soon regretted that. We are not going to go into why I have an old pajama top festooned with doggy faces where I catsit, but I was glad it was there this morning. Also very glad the puter I use does not have a webcam.

In an email exchange with my friend, Kara, I referenced the Trek convention many years ago when a friend asked me to hold her infant and watch her dealer table while she and her husband took a much needed break. No problems with watching the table or the baby, who snoozed the whole time, even though the table was next to a mockup of the Enterprise-D bridge, complete with red alert alarm that went off at irregular intervals. Every single time it went off, my first thought was "must get baby to nursery and respond." This, boys and girls, is when one knows it is time to get out of a fandom. Or at the very least take a break once in a while.

The afternoon I had is another one of those "hey, doofus, take a break" moments. While the research I did today was needed and I got the information I wanted, and that will help shape the story, the focus for me is always on the growing love relationship between the h/h. Time to crack open one of the nice big historicals in my growing TBR pile and read in the glow of my real life hero's puter screen as he plays solitaire. Even though I have a hard time stopping to refuel, it's better than bottoming out.