Dimwitted

I can never determine whether or not I am stupid. I suppose it takes some brains to become board-certified in two medical specialities but this achievement is counterpoint with daily goofs and failures to connect the basic dots. And it seems to be worsening with age, which means senility is the third man crawling into my mental rubadub tub.

What separates me from the bonafide birdbrained is I try not to act an ass. At recent medical lecture on ‘How not to be sued” we were given examples of supreme dimwits who did all sorts of outrage evoking horror and freudenschade. While feeling grateful and a bit smug I am not that stupid I walked into the closed EXIT door. The bang wasn’t so bad as the embarrassment.

I would gladly give up a few IQ points for some common sense, or better yet, a keener ability to recall where I put things or what did Someone say only ten minutes ago.

Ah well. Dumb and dizzy; that’s me darling.