If I Only Had a Brain

I don't really buy into all the personality quiz applications that are on facebook. Quite frankly, I don't care which Power Ranger a high school acquaintance who I haven't talked to in eight years is, nor have I felt the desire to find out such fascinating and compelling information about myself (with the exception of which Les Mis character I am . . . 24601, everybody). However, in a bout of boredom at work today, I took a quiz to figure out which side of my brain is dominant (because naturally a facebook quiz is the leading authority). The answer? Neither! Despite some detractors who "politely disagree", the results showed that I apparently have a very balanced brain. The downside is that the equal-yet-opposing forces of right and left cause decision-making to be difficult for me, which provides a viable excuse to my friends of why I should never be asked to pick a restaurant.

So which side of my brain has been more dominant in the last week of my life while I've been in the process of moving? That would definitely be the left, otherwise known as The Italian. (and here we insert the doubting thomases that don't believe my brain is balanced . . . i might agree with them starting about now.) And the right side, The Mexican, is crying to get free and help me be illogical. (there is background for these nicknames, and i assure you it has nothing to do with the actual ethnicities.) And I can feel myself starting to buckle under the pressure. The Italian helps me get through the decisions about how to pack, where to put things, and who to call to help me move the piano, so I urgently need him (for lack of a better pronoun) at the present time. However, the Mexican helps me to release the stress and relax in the midst of all the madness. And I can tell I've been neglecting the Mexican. And the Italian desperately wants a break.

Unfortunately for both sides, this won't be done for another couple of days. While most of my earthly possessions have changed residence, I'm not done with the packing (although after yesterday's carload, i do feel like there's a light at the end of the tunnel) or the cleaning that will come when I check out of Oak Pointe or the helping of my current roommates to move their stuff. Once Saturday afternoon comes and Elinor (yes, the piano has a name) moves, all will be put back into order (one hopes), and the Italian and Mexican can re-take their respective positions in my brain, and I'll be able to breathe deeply and freely. And maybe, just maybe, enough of a balance will be restored so I stop naming every inanimate object I own.

-Me

"The brain is a wonderful organ. It starts the minute you get up in the morning and does not stop until you get into the office." -Robert Frost