Scatterbrained or a Genius?

scatterbrain 2

So I’ve been in my fall purging state lately. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not bulimic. I enjoy food too much, as my thighs will attest. Here I go digressing again, something I’m rather adept at. That’s because I’m scatterbrained. I admit that and I own it. It’s who I am.

Hello. I’m Janet and I’m scatterbrained.

scatterbrain

Anyway, back to purging. What I mean is I’m going through my garage and closets to rid myself of nonessential stuff I’ve accumulated over the years. That means I can discard pretty much everything I own. But instead I’m purging items I’m tired of in order to make room for more things I’ll tire of later. Continue reading

Night Owl or Morning Lark?

hands up

I don’t know about you but for me one of the least desirable aspects of getting longer in the tooth is lack of sleep.

Gone are the nights of 10-hour slumbers like in my teens. In my 20s-30s I often achieved a steady 9 hours. In my 40s-50s, 8 hours hit the spot. Ah, those were the days.

Now that I’m 60, my snoozing time lasts about as long as an Oliver Stone movie, generally just over 3 hours. I’m then awake for 2, followed by another hour or two of semi-consciousness. I tell ya, if I keep going like this, when I hit 70 the act of a prolonged blink will constitute a nice little nap.

dear 3 a.m

I suppose it doesn’t help that I’m a night owl. Now don’t get me wrong; it’s not my fault. I blame my mom. Like my sister and me, she stayed up well past midnight, needing to force herself to sleep around 2:00 a.m. That doesn’t leave a whole lot of time for a visit from the Sandman, does it?

I know as we age the rumor is we don’t require as much sleep. I hope that’s true but still, I’d settle for a solid 5 hours. Not reaching that magical number definitely shows. Like, for instance, when I saw the photo of myself in my last blog. I was horrified at how old and tired I looked. When did THAT happen? I blame it on lack of sleep. Or better yet, my parents.

lack of sleep

Uh…that would be a definite yes

But guess what? It turns out I’m not just arbitrarily blaming my mom and dad. That’s because I recently read about a study at the University of Leicester, Department of Genetics, that human sleep patterns go beyond preferences but are governed by genetics. AH HA!

lack of sleep3

In my case, obviously not

You may wonder how this was discovered. Or maybe you don’t. But I’ll tell you anyway because it’s pretty interesting. Turns out fruit flies share 75% of disease-causing genes with humans. Who knew? And that’s why scientists use fruit flies as proxies for people in many studies. Your welcome.

fruit fly

Ugly little suckers aren’t they?

Mixed in with all the mumbo-jumbo brainy people use in neurology publications, the gist of it is this: Feel free to blame your sleep patterns on your parents. Works for me!

mom and dad

All their fault

As you can imagine, sleep deprivation causes all sorts of awful repercussions, like a higher risk of motor accidents, an increase in fatal ailments, loss of sex drive and premature aging. Well, good day to you, too.

According to the Sleep Foundation, most adults need between 7-9 hours of sleep each night. I only know one adult who accomplishes that. Come to think of it, she doesn’t have many wrinkles (damn her) and she’s older than me. The skin under her eyes is like a Dyson vacuum — totally bagless, while mine resembles an old Electrolux with those long narrow bags.

electrolux 3

They say it’s natural for some to be night owls while others are morning larks. But what about those of us who are late to bed and early to rise? What’s to become of us? But I guess that was answered two paragraphs ago…

lack of sleep 2

Tell me about it

So unless I get more shut eye, my prognosis appears grim. The thing is, I don’t want to get hooked on sleeping pills and I find counting sheep boring but not sleep-worthy. What to do, what to do…

Oh, that’s right. I forgot…Blame my parents.

sleep quote 5

 

 

Off My Rocker

I’ve been thinking of doing something really stupid so somebody needs to stop me before I actually do it. You’re probably going to think I’m off my rocker and yes, I probably am. There. I admit it. So don’t hate me when I tell you I’m thinking of adopting another dog.

off my rocker

I know, I know. I’m perfectly aware that I already have 3 dogs, the Marin County limit, and 3 cats, so adding another to the mix makes no sense, right? But what can I say? I think in some way my pets actually choose me instead of the other way around.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying when I first saw my current pets they pointed a paw in my direction and said pick me, pick me!  That would be awesome, but no. It’s more like I’m drawn to them by an unspoken vibe. Next thing I know, I’m driving home with something furry in the seat beside me.

kitten pointing

Hey you. Yeah you. You’re mine so get over here

Continue reading

How to Spot a Psychopath

I just found out my friend Pam is very likely a psychopath. What a total shocker. You’d think I would have recognized this sooner, wouldn’t you? We’ve been friends since high school for God’s sake. I played softball with her all through my 20s. We were in each other’s weddings and today she’s still one of my best friends. So why didn’t I notice something was amiss?

And she looks so normal...

And she looks so normal…

I’m also a bit surprised Pam’s psychosis slipped by me because in college I minored in Abnormal Psychology. I know it’s been 40 years, but still…I’m sorta drawn to the crazy. Excuse me; I believe the politically correct term is unstable. My bad.

You may be wondering how I discovered this personality disorder in my good friend. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying she maimed anyone and subsequently displayed no outward signs of telltale guilt because of a lack of empathy or ability to relate to others. Continue reading

Where Did I Go Wrong?

My dogs wear diapers.

Yes, you read that correctly. I have diaper-wearing dogs, otherwise known as Skip and Nellie. Only Callie sleeps au-naturel. So I ask you….where did I go wrong

No question I’m an animal lover. In fact, I have a slew of them. But recently I’ve been forced to admit I may not be the greatest guardian. I mean, really. Who else do you know that diapers her dogs before bed? Nobody, right? I knew it. There’s something wrong with me.

All my animals use a dog door to come and go into the backyard. Well, maybe not ALL of them. There’s Skip, my incredibly adorable Corgi mix who sucks on a blanket like a baby with a pacifier. He hit a home run in the too-cute-for-words department but struck out when it came to having smarts. I call him my special child.

Skip and his ever-present blankie Skip and his ever-present blankie

Continue reading