morning brain

Today I will tell you a little tale about how poorly my mind functions within the first few hours of waking up.

I took a shower this morning, and as I was rinsing off my light grey washcloth in the showerhead, I noticed a dozen or more tiny dark dots on it that were not washing off. For some reason, I assumed that they were lice. And then I freaked out because that's really gross. I figured they weren't washing out because they were holding on to the comfy warm washcloth fibres for dear life.

And then I started wondering where on earth they could have come from, and how long Aaron and/or I have had lice, and how there could be so many all of a sudden without us noticing, and if I would have to cut off all my hair to get rid of them. I tried to pick one out of the washcloth, and thought it was odd that it came apart in a fibre-like manner, but then again I had never really been up close and personal with a louse before.

So, I got out of the shower and continued getting ready for the morning, because I didn't see what else I could do about it right then, and I needed to get to work. So I took my dark purple towel and started to dry off. I noticed, for about the 28th time, that this towel had acquired several tiny light-grey pills of fuzz from being washed with our light-grey towels. I wondered why our grey towels never got dark purple pills.

I kept pondering the louse problem. No light dawned.

Finally, when I was almost ready to go, I decided to take another look at the lice. I noticed that in the better light, the lice looked purple. I poked one. I thought it seemed to curled up tighter on the fabric. I picked it out of the washcloth. It trailed a few fibres behind it as if it had been holding on really tightly.

And then I finally figured it out.

Aaron can be very thankful that I had resusted the urge to run out of the shower and wake him up and make him kill the lice. He's even worse than I am in the morning!