I swear I was mentally competent at lunch time. But now it’s like I have a wet blanket on my brain and I just can’t.

It’s annoying but also somewhat amusing, truth be told. There might be something to this recreational stupidity that potheads seem so keen on.

I can’t deny the possibility that I would be happier if I was just a little stupider.

Not that I think stupid people are happier than smart people. I mean, it’s true that depression skews towards the high IQ crowd, but the stupid have their problems too.

They’re just stupider problems.

But given all my talk of my brutal truth machine (totally the name of my industrial band) in yesterday’s blog entry, I can’y deny that the fucking thing would probably break down for good if I shaved ten points off my IQ.

And then I wouldn’t have this nightmare mechanism I have created picking me apart constantly and torturing me with the “truth”.

Might be the best thing for me.

Maybe that’s why some people become serence as they grow old. At some point, they lose just enough of their faculties to knock out their overactive superegos, and from that point on everything is A-OK.

I can hardly wait.

I’d have to say that my mood at the moment is not quite as good as yesterday’s lighter side of meh, but that is probably just low blood sugar. I should take a break and have a snack. But I don’t want to ruin my appetite for the sushi I have ordered.

Due to my current state of mental impairment, it took me over twenty minutes just to decide what the hell I wanted from the sushi place. I kept dithering over my order. I would complete my order, then change my mind,. then complete it again. and so forth and so on, each time making it all the way to the page where you actually order the stuff before backtracking and starting over.

And I am not normally that much of a ditherer. Especially when it’s something as discrete and logical as a restaurant order. That’s the sort of thing my brutal truth machine can usually hash out pretty fast.

In fact, it is exactly the sort of quantitative judgment exercise I enjoy, and I am normally pretty darn good at them.

But my executive function is impaired right now, and so I dithered.

To be honest, those are my two speeds : either operating swiftly and decisively with machine like efficiency and high quality results, or endless painful dithering and soul searching as if I am trying to make Sophie’s fucking Choice.

Which is like Taster’s Choice, but with nazis.

I think it all boils down to the nature of the variables plus my mood. If the variables are all easily understood and fixed, and my mind is not bogged down with negative emotions or otherwise prepared, then I can be all swift and sure and shit.

But if I have to make the decisions without those easy (for me) to deal with variables, then I got nothing. I have to make the decisions based on emotion, and that gets into the whole “what do I want?” quagmire, and things get worse from there.

I am no good at emotional reasoning. I can solve all the world’s problems in my head, but like a certain Vulcan, ask me an emotion based question and I am stumped.

Of course, that makes me think of this :

I don’t know what I want. The question makes me brain crash. I either don’t have an answer or have so many answers flooding my mind at the same time that it is impossible for me to pick one.

Gah. Even now, after writing all this AND hydrating AND taking a B100 pill (time released B vitamins) AND eating an apple, I am still so sleepy that I almost nodded off in mid-sentence.

I have been fighting back sleep for a while now, actually. It’s so stressful. I hate being in this mental state. Awake, but unable to think straight, so I can’t generate the kind of consciousness to which I am accustomed and instead I feel like I am a drunk trying to find his way home when he can barely see straight and the world appears to be rocking and reeling like he was aboard a ship in the middle of a hurricane.

I guess tt’s sort of weirdt that I can’t figure out my sushi order but I can write that kind of image without much effort.

Different parts of the brain.

Plus, I haven’t been ordering sushi every day since 2011 like I have been doing with this writing of mine.

I mean. I would if I could. Sushi’s awesome. And I don’t even like fish. But there is no way I could afford it.

Right now, I am happily nomming on the sushi which just arrived. I have kappa maki (not a fraternity, a cucumber roll), yam tempura roll (SO GOOD), and chicken teriyaki roll. And of course, lots of soy and wasabi.

I don’t usually use the pickled ginger. It tastes fine but I find it distracts from the flavour of the sushi rather than adds to it.

But I looooooove wasabi. I seem to be attracted to highly aromatic flavours, meaning flavours that are strongly based on scent.

Apparently. when the aromatic elements of the food rise up from the food in my mouth, permeate the palate, enter the nasal chamber, and are inhaled, I go yum.

So things like wasabli,. onion, garlic, mint, and curry make me happy.

Lots of other things too, of course. There’s no aromatic component to most ice cream flavours and I sure as heck love ice cream.

You know, I could go Google “wasabi ice cream” and see if that’s a thing.

But you know what? I’m good. I am serene in my faith that it does exist. I habve total confidence that it is a thing the world has already produced.

We’ll see how long that lasts.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.