You may be just a little gray, wrinkly blob, hitching a ride in my skull, but you are in a very important position of authority over the rest of the body parts. You need to understand that everybody else in this flesh bag is relying on you to direct this daily dance so that we don't become severely injured or injure others. You have obviously been falling down on the job (if you'll forgive the pun) and I've written a little something so you can start to understand what I'm dealing with here.
Thank you for your time,
Jessica
Who's In Charge Here, Anyway?
When I walk into a room
I spill out over every horizontal surface:
keys,
books,
purse,
groceries, phone, receipts, crumbs, bits and pieces and stuffs...
Everywhere!
I don't want to, don't mean to!
It may not even be my room;
it could be your room,
your classroom,
your doctor's office,
your funeral parlor.
I just walk in and it all jumps out off my shoulders and down my arms like a landslide.
I pick up one thing and it bursts into two,
three,
four
and bringing them back together is like wrangling meth-addicted cats.
"I'm sorry, what were you saying?
...I was just...
...gimme one sec...
where did I put my...?"
Dropping leads to bumping leads to slipping leads to breaking
"So sorry! I'll pay for that..."
Cleaning up and preparing to go is like sorting a puddle.
