I’m pretty good at embarrassing myself. I don’t mind being goofy, or I don’t mind being self deprecating. Because I certainly want to be the first person to make fun of me. I like to think that I hone conspicuous personal embarrassment as a fine artisan would whittle a duck from a bar of soap.
However, I don’t like making a fool of myself if I’m not the first to know. If I can help it at all, I’d rather not say something unintentionally dumb, or insensitive or uninformed. It screws up my image management.
I can’t say if it’s hormones, or the long winter nights, or just a bout of oversensitivity. But I feel clumsy. Not just physical, slapstick clumsy. But dim-witted, over-my-head, does-not-compute clumsy. It’s like, I just got a little bit more stupid. I don’t know if I’m actually more dumb right now, or if I just feeeeeeel more dumb. I might have to poll my husband and friends and see if they’d give me honest answers. “Am I dumber than I used to be?”
As I think about it though, I’ve definitely had some full-on scatterbrain moments, like, holy crap, I better start wearing a helmet. When the light turns green, you’re supposed to go, right? I might have forgotten that. Once. Or going to the store to buy some stuff, but forgetting to get the one item I went to the store for. I can’t say that’s extra dumb. That’s just run-of-the-mill dumb.
But I could seriously start a whole new blog with at least one really dumb thing I do every single day. Like when I put frozen strawberries in a blender to make a puree, and I plugged it in before putting the lid on. And the button was switched to “on.” And the frozen strawberries exploded into the air then pelted me in the head. For the record though, the blender has always been my least favorite kitchen appliance.
Or making myself some pasta, and wanting to add frozen spinach to the sauce. And I get the bag of frozen spinach, whack it on the counter to break it up. And I pour the spinach into the sauce. Except it’s not spinach, it’s peas! I hate fucking peas! I mean, I don’t hate peas in general, but I hate them in inappropriate places, like in my pasta sauce. And you bet your butt I spent five minutes plucking out every last errant pea from that pasta sauce.
This isn’t permanent, right? I’m not going to be dumb like this forever? Or do I just need to go get a helmet and full body armor?