Various portions of my head are failing me.

So, I think I'm going mad. Either that, or falling apart, somehow.

This morning I wake up to the sound of the cat scratching on my bedroom door. She's the kind of cat who want to be where she's not allowed. She'll annoy the hell out of me until I relent and allow her in. The alternative is that I get fed up with the noise and stomp after her like some cranky, boxers-wearing Frankenstein's Monster. They're annoying that way, sometimes, cats. Anyhow, back on track. I'm about to chase the cat away when I realize the scratching is coming from my closet. I haven't opened that closet in about a week, so this is somewhat odd. My thought is "great, I have mice, or rats, or pygmies, or Mormons," or something equally distasteful. I open the closet door, and there's nothing there. Of course. Whatever. Back to bed.

Hearing: Suspect

This afternoon, I'm driving to meet friends. The car stereo is turned off, and for some reason I try to recall the intro to "Sympathy for the Devil" by the Rolling Stones. Instead, my wonderful little mind brings up "Touch Me" by The Doors. Why? They don't seem similar to me. Perhaps it's somewhat Freudian. I recently used the first verse of "Devil" as something of an introductory pick-up line. Whatever. Time to meet friends.

Memory: Suspect
Libido: Misbehaving

Tonight, after spending time with the aforementioned friends, I'm driving home. No musical memories on the return trip, though. This time, I'm on the freeway when I see a flash of blue lights behind me. Curious. I'm not speeding. 58 in a 60 with a slow speedometer seems OK no matter which way I look at it. My lights are all functioning properly, and my tabs are current. I pull over. Nothing. Not just no cops, but no other cars. Period. Not for a good 300 feet behind me. Whatever. It's time to go home.

Eyesight: Suspect

I'm afraid to speak now, for fear that I may sound like Donald Duck on helium for no apparent reason. Sure, it'd be amusing, but what purpose would it serve.

Voice: Untested