How are you doing? How was your weekend? How was your Valentine's?
Please forgive me if you've already answered those questions. I was at Sophie's volleyball tournament over the weekend and took a ball to the head, hard. I'm no doctor, but this is the closest I've come to a concussion and I don't need a medical degree to prove it.
For starters, I can't remember anything anyone told me. I don't know what day it is. Or the month. And I'm hazy on the year.
None of this has anything to do with my concussion, mind you. This is just me talking about myself.
Looking on the bright side, I have a tip for all the insomniacs out there: blunt force trauma to the head.
Best night of sleep I ever had.
Afterward, everyone was asking me: Are you okay? Are you okay?
And I was all: did the word Molten just get permanently imprinted on my cheek? Because if I were ever to get a face tattoo, that's exactly what I'd pick.
One reason I suspect I have a concussion is that I keep talking about it, ad nauseam. Like, when I sat down to write this post I was all: don't be one of those people who keeps talking about their concussion, ad nauseam.
And look what I'm doing.
When normally I'd be telling you how awesome Jiro Dreams of Sushi is. How my entire family enjoyed watching this film and how I recommend it to you, too.
How it was a beautiful weekend, filled with many happy and sad moments.
This was a happy one.
Taking a ball to the head, not so happy.
And how I went to the market and saw these apples and got terribly homesick. Because this apple probably came from a tree within 5 kilometres of where I grew up, dear reader.
And it is making my head hurt, just doing the metric conversion. Or could it be my concussion?
My head really does hurt. And I am feeling weirdly nauseous. But I always feel nauseous when I say ad nauseam because it confuses me, which means I have no business dropping Latin to a disgusting or ridiculous degree.
Which is to say...ad nauseam.
So I should probably stop joking about the damage to my brain because concussion or not, there is definitely some faulty wiring going on upstairs. Probably a preexisting condition.
But that ball did not help matters.
p.s. Please don't interpret my comments about getting hit as glib. I know concussions are serious business. If it so happens something really is wrong with my head, I won't be laughing. But I also won't be superstitious or think it's ironic because I laughed about it on this blog.
I don't know what I'll think. Probably that I should stop dropping Latin ad nauseam or something.