Use It or Lose It Isn't Helping

I have come to the realization that I am not getting dumb.

I have already "got" dumb.

I have only one explanation... 

my nemesis Dead Estrogen.

I used to be an intelligent person.

I received excellent grades with little or no effort.

I spoke well and I could back it up.

I knew stuff.

I knew where Persia was on the map.

I knew Persia was now called Iran.

Currently,

I am not sure I could fill in all the states on

a blank U.S. map.

Honestly...

Maryland, Delaware, Connecticut

it is all a blur.

I am forever saying words that sound similar

and mean nothing alike.

Last week, on this blog

I said edition when clearly I meant addition.

I do it all. the. time.

I have jokingly said I have the 

vocabulary of a 4th grader.

In actuality, I have the vocabulary of

a dumb 4th grader.

ugh.

Last week I was talking to a friend...

yada yada yada

blah blah blah

(a skill I still master)

I was saying " I have a nice camera

but I don't use it much.

I like to be in the action and not the one behind it.

When I am taking pictures, I feel like I am missing the fun.

I need to take someone along to use it for me.

I am just not much of a picture taker."

 Seriously??

Picture taker.

Perhaps Janie, you mean photographer.

I have decided when I hire a photographer 

to follow me around to document my life

I need to also hire a public speaker.

I am getting a really smart one too...

one who has a 6th grade vocabulary.

Dumb or not, I'm fancy like that.

insomnia

Sleep is over-rated.

I tell myself this when I can't.

It is an old lady thing for me.

I die around 11.

Sooner if I lay down.

Or if I get into a movie 

I am loving that I haven't taped

then, I miss the last 10 minutes

and awaken just as the credits roll.
I sleep great for about 3-4 hours
and then I am bug-eyed.

It has been this way for the last ten years.

I tried the meds...

Lunesta, Ambien, etc.

I don't like them.

Plus, they are to be shot-term fixes...

not to be used for a decade. 
Exercise doesn't change it.

These hormones are dying, mostly dead,

but they like to have a party in the night, 

while the world is sleeping.

Our bedroom is upstairs.
Stuart is oblivious to my shenanigans.
He knows I get up.
He says he hates it, but he doesn't join me.
It is okay.
I like my "me " time.
I am productive.
I read, catch up on blogs,
do laundry, mop floors,
and watch television.
There are 300 infomercials.
I have seen them all.
I have purchased a few.
I have returned most. 
About the time the chickens rise,

I am ready for a nap.
Sometimes I get one.
Sometimes I don't.
I tend to go about with my eyes looking

like 2 burnt holes in a blanket most days.
Concealer is my friend.
When I read to the littles 
in the afternoons
I am a narcoleptic.
I drag butt.
I am dying in the witching hour of 2 p.m.
Then I get my second wind, and all is good...
only to repeat the cycle all over again.
But, enough of this blather
I've got 70's sitcoms to watch!