Braino for my brain


The howl from the kitchen snaked up the stairs to the bedroom.

“Da-a-ad. The kitchen sink is all backed up.”

I rolled my eyes, sighed, and headed downstairs. My daughter looked back and forth between me and the sink as I walked in, her expression somewhere between puzzled and disgusted. I looked down to see barely recognizable chunks of food and who knows what else adrift in a murky sea.

“Yep, it does look like it’s back up a little bit.”

I opened the cupboard below the sink, knelt down, and inspected the plumbing. Don’t ask me why. It’s not as if I could actually do anything with the plastic plumbing that would help the situation. It’s like when the car breaks down, the first thing people do is look under the hood, even if everything under there is completely foreign and unrecognizable. Maybe we just all hope that we will find a big red button there with a sign that says, “Push here to fix the problem.


I closed the cupboard doors and headed to the garage to get the plunger. I am not a great believer in chemical remedies. If I have to pour something down the drain to help it along, I have a nice natural bacterial product that claims to gently keep the plumbing healthy.

Well, I worked that plunger. Slowly, quickly, forehanded, backhanded. All it succeeded in doing was to move the soup back and forth between the two sinks. I added water. I scooped out water. Nothing was working.

Helpless and frustrated, I gritted my teeth, opened the cupboard doors again, and reached way back into the shadows of its far recesses. Out came the Drano. Fifteen minutes later the drain was gurgling happily as the sink emptied out. I gave the sinks a scrub, took the plunger back out to the garage, and hid the can of noxious chemicals back into a far corner of the cupboard. Maybe I should use my friendly bacteria buddies on a more regular basis.

My brain has felt like that lately. It’s been months since I’ve written a blog post. Whenever I think about it, the same soupy jumble of words just sloshes back and forth in my brain — but nothing intelligible comes out. NaNoWriMo came and went. Gazillions of novels were written all over the world. Me? I don’t think I finished a shopping list.

I have to take some drastic action for my brain. The usual stuff isn’t working. I’m sure I have something hidden in a dark corner or crevice that I could use to get everything flowing again in 15 minutes or so. Maybe, if I had thought to use it a little earlier, I would have written a novel during November too.

Seeing as I’ve never thrown away anything in my life, I must have the right stuff somewhere. Now, just to find it.

Wish me luck.


One thought on “Braino for my brain

  1. Heh. I so relate to this post right now–though (thankfully) not the literal clogged sink part. I do wish you luck! Tonnes of it. Happy writing, Me.

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