Have you ever been driving down the road, singing along with Ace of Base, and you glance in your rear view mirror and all you see are the ginormous teeth of a semi-truck whose grill is about to eat you? Your first reaction is to scream and then start crying. Your second reaction is to have a massive coronary.
At this moment in my life, I am pretty sure that those ginormous teeth ate me, chewed me up like a piece of jerky and spit me out on the highway. And then the truck backed up and ran over me. Twice.
And that's after I had a massive coronary.
I call this condition jetlag.
It's not that I am crippled or unable to function, I do well for most of the day. But come 6:00 pm, my brain becomes heavy, like it's a big bowl of pudding and I am trying desperately to swim in it.
And we all know that you can't swim in pudding.
But I will tell you that for the next day or two I will not be functioning on all cylinders. Therefore, I am not responsible for anything I say or do after 6:00 pm.
That also means that I may need one or more of you to bail me out if the police happen to disagree with this statement.
You all are the best.