20nothing.com

I think for twenty-four hours per day. Ironically, it is a direct correlation to my age but of no reflection to my maturity. Some time off is spread thinly around eating, pooping or watching “The Hills”, but generally my mind can be physicalized by a mouse running through a maze in desperate search of an invisible piece of cheese.

I feel an almost biological urge to have an opinion on almost everything. A habit that results in people either welcoming me into the conversation or plotting my demise.

 

Recently, out of fear that my brain was going to pack a bag, arrive on the door step of The Betty Ford Clinic and cite “dehydration and exhaustion”, I decided to rediscover a hobby that allows me to stop thinking about everything (including myself) and just Be for a while. Bars were once my go-to place to turn off That organ (amongst others) but, it seems, my mind has developed an immunity to hard liquor.

“Just have sex,” boy friend suggested, like sex is some Fairy Godmother and saying the word will make it appear. (Aside: Hello scientific research industry. Get onto that).

“I think during sex,” I informed him.

“About what?”

“It depends. Sometimes I only have time to think about Why Heidi and Spencer exist. But other times, I can recite the entire first chapter of A Brief History Of Time in my head before I have even noticed anything is happening.”

Nothing, not even the most mind-blowing sex, has ever been able to stop me from thinking about all of the things that need to be thought about.

“Maybe you are having sex with the wrong people?” boy friend theorized.

I considered such things while sitting on my new skateboard eating Cheezels for breakfast.

I was immune once again.

 

I remember when I first got on the gravy train that is thinking. I wondered, “Has anyone else realized the brilliance of this ability!?” I had spent such a long time not using my most powerful organ [above the waist], that I naturally assumed that no one else had discovered it. Which makes the euphoria someone redundant. And like any child who has discovered a new toy (a skateboard, boys…), I became obsessed with thinking and never learned how to turn the damn thing off. I think I spent too much time thinking about how to turn other things off…

 

After seven hours of Trying To Turn The Damn Thing Off (read: drinking), I was sitting next to my newest boy friend, regaling him on the intricacies of skateboarding.

“My best skate shoes are my knee-high boots,” I informed. “I am going to be the girl in board shorts and knee high boots, skating while holding a glass of scotch.”

“Well, if you go pro, your name can be The Contradiction.”

“Brilliant idea!” I giggled at his genius. “Or I could be called…ummm…What is the word?”

I stood desperately thinking of the word that had escaped me and He used the first moment of silence all night to kiss me.

I perfect time to stop thinking. For any normal person.

“Hypocrite?” I thought, words racing through my mind, thinking that the lost vocab started with the letter H. “Hypochondriac? [W]hore?”

He continued kissing me and I continued thinking.

“HERMAPHRODITE!”

“Excuse me?” He pulled away and stared at me, his brain working over time. “Did you just yell out ‘Hermaphrodite’ while we were making out?”

 

Thinking that I had done my best effort [ever] to turn Him off, I sat back down to drink (read: really, really try to find the Off switch). He put on the heater, spent some time converting Fahrenheit into Celsius and then joined me with the beer.

We started kissing again.

“This is hot,” he whispered.

“Oh. Should we have chosen a different temperature?”

 

It has always bothered me that boys seem to be happy spending time with girls who don’t think. At all.

“What do you talk about?”

“What do you do?”

“How do you occupy yourself during bad sex?”

But there is a point of thinking too much. And it is direct correlation to how much it improves a situation. The brain is the most powerful asset anyone has (Big boobs sag) and panic has forced me to exercise it to its greatest ability. But the greatest thing anyone can realize is that following instinct is sometimes the smartest thing one does.

I went for a skateboard and ran directly into a wall.