liniment required.

I can feel my brain.

Just a few seconds ago, for example, I had a website in mind. I was going to go to it next, but got distracted by a bit of flash-happy visual clutter and--clink--that website rolled right off my cerebral desk and into a dusty corner amongst a couple of neurons that most likely concern themselves with whether Gabe has any socks left that he hasn’t picked holes in.

I’m pretty sure I’ll find it later. (and discover it was about as valuable as a gum-ball machine trinket.) But the notable point is that I felt it go clink, just as I feel something akin to lactic acid build-up after a 5 page Japanese chapter test.

Ever faced a treadmill, or a 3-mile run, and had your cranky, groggy muscles say you’re kidding, right?, even if they go on to acquiesce? That’s exactly the way my brain feels--even three semesters in--every time it’s faced with a page of text in hiragana and kanji, as opposed to nice “normal” romaji. (this is pretty much typed in romaji, btw.) It’s like you go to open the receptors of your brain and find them packed in cotton batting, with a muffled voice in the back weakly protesting that it’s stuck.

So far I usually manage to unstick it. And I wonder whether--if your brain is slowly getting gunked up by beta amyloid--can you feel it? You can’t unstick it, like I can, and this soothes my paranoia a bit.