Happy Places

It's odd, how my brain works. Or doesn't work, depending on the moment and whether I am properly fed. You know, with good nutrition and plenty of it. I'm blaming my current extreme inability to focus on anything I am supposed to be doing on the fact that last night my dinner consisted of Vodka, Chocolate Chip Cookies, and Taco Bell.

It must be the Taco Bell that is causing problems because we all know I exist quite well on a diet of vodka and chocolate chip cookies.

Not the point. again.

The point is, that as distracted as I appear on a normal basis, I am often hiding additional distractions that are going on in my head.

My brain, brilliant though it can be, takes random vacations to far off places at strange times. I call it going to my happy place.

Here's the thing. My happy place? Totally not a verdant meadow full of unicorns.

No. In my early twenties, it was a hillside in San Diego County covered in prickly pear cactus. Lately, my brain transports me to Placerville.

I've only been to Placerville once. I was passing through. It looked like an interesting town to spend an hour. Maybe there are thrift stores or antiques or something. I do know there is history and I sure do like that.

Sometimes I consider why my brain sends me to these places. Perhaps there is buried treasure on that hillside of prickly pear. Maybe there's something special for me lurking in Placerville. I do know that I need to go get the soap that I have on consignment in Quincy. But Quincy and Placerville are in different directions.

No, I think my brain is just wired funny. Because running reports triggers a mind trip to Placerville and I'm not even going to tell you what triggered the prickly hillside...