I woke up at 3 a.m. I’d say it was exactly 3 a.m., but Studly Doright’s clock runs fast, so it was likely only 2:57. At any rate, it was early.
Of course I’d gone to bed around seven last night because I hadn’t been able to sleep at all the night before. Do I lead an exciting life or what?
My brain and I have been having some intense discussions lately. The old girl just isn’t as sharp as she used to be. I always dreamed of being one of those elderly women that people would describe as being sharp as a tack. Instead, I fear they’ll compare my mental capacity to a slice of Swiss cheese or worse, a dull knife.
And as they carry me away to the memory care center, I’ll protest that I once was able to memorize Shakespearean soliloquies with the greatest of ease. And they’ll ask, “Did you say Swiss cheese?”
Peace, people.
Nothing wrong with swiss cheese, hehe
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It’s the holes that are the problem.
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Reblogged this on Disablities & Mental Health Issues.
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I love Swiss cheese!
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😊
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Oh, Dear. Swiss Cheese is lovely, velvety, and enhances everything it touches. See, it’s not so bad.
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It’s not the cheese I kind so much, but the holes…
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