Stop Mental Spam

Posted on September 26, 2011

30


My brain feels mushy. Perhaps it’s because I have a neuropsych test in three hours and I’ve had my nose deep into the recesses of a biology of psychology book. Perhaps it’s because of the thirty hour a week workload which requires that I work until 2am four nights a week- most of those school nights. Perhaps it’s the ending of the book, the kind, of sort of ending of the book (I am sending to publishers in a week or two at which point I will wait for more notes and start again), perhaps it’s just because I’m exhausted and haven’t been out to exercise today. Gotta get more blood to my brain.

Did you know that your brain consumes 25% of all your nutrients? Something that is only about 5% your body mass taking up 25% of your nutrients?Greedy little thing.

I’ve been writing this blog for over two years now, and there seems to be a general increase in spam. Which is interesting. Because I feel as though my mental inbox is less filled with nonsensical spam than every before. The clarity with which I am able to approach life is lovely, frustratingly lovely.

And yet, sometimes it is difficult to have goals. Sometimes it is much easier to flounder about, lost and apathetic. Gah. I got accepted to Cal State Northridge for Spring semester, and have already planned out the courses I need to take to graduate quickly. Little emails from my ego keep trying to block up that mental inbox, but I say, “No, I don’t need to go to UCLA for undergrad. I just need to finish. This fucking B.A. has taken me ten plus years. Let’s just do this, and get on with the rest of our education.”

Ten years. What poor planning skills I once had. Ha. Prefrontal lobes all messy, misfiring, high. Silly cortex.

 

If I have to identify the Thalamus one more time… Well… I’ll probably just identify the Thalamus one more time. Thalamic nuclei. Little fuckers.

 

My amygdala got all uppity when thinking about my neighbor. It was like, “Yeah, let’s go hooride on the bitch.” Then the rest of my limbic system was like, “Chill homegirl. Study for that test.” We are going to stay where we are for now. Go month to month. She has quieted down (thanks to a letter from the Landlord) and there is simply nothing in the area for lesser or equal value. Living in LA is so ridiculous. One day Jennie. One day.

 

My Anterior Cingulate Cortex is pretty pumped about the potential rewards of finishing a degree. It keeps me re-making the decision to attend class when I’m supposed to go. In fact, I wonder how I ever quit going to class. Like I could just show up test days, pass, and that would be sufficient. Ha. Orbitofrontal cortex was not really helpin’ me out with the whole impulse control thing like it was supposed to. Did you know there is a part on your anterior cingulate cortex that responds to physical pain, and that same area lights up when you experience emotional pain? No wonder mistakes lessons hurt.

 

I have to go get cookies for the study party. I was going to make them myself, but I worry about time, I keep doing time math in my head and I’d rather show up to the review early with store bought cookies than arrive late with homemade snickerdoodles. Next time will be better. This time is just fine as well. I’m taking my fragmented brain away from this post. Just needed a quick checkin.

 

I am here. I am present. I am taking care of myself today and after five p.m., I will shut down intellectually for a few hours and rev it up again at work tonight, to study for my Anthropology exam tomorrow. Keep moving forward. One foot in front of the other. Not only will everything be okay, but everything is already okay. Just. Remember. To Breathe.

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Posted in: Good Days