Goodbye Brain

I spent most of yesterday trying to scrub several years of accumulated dirt out of the grout in the living room with clorox. That is, until the room started spinning and I couldn't stand up anymore. Danny found me face down on the bed and I still smell clorox every time I inhale so today I purchased actual grout cleanser which promised to be non-toxic. Unfortunately, it's too late for a few of my neurons which I'm pretty sure are toast. On the plus side I figured out exactly which ones I lost this morning during a discussion about a high school friend of mine and her pronunciation difficulties.

Me: I had a friend who couldn't say the word "wolf". She would say "woof" instead.
Danny: Woof?
Me: Right. Isn't that funny? And instead of saying "wolfs" she would say "woofs".
Danny: Wait, instead of what?
Me: Wolfs.
Danny: It's wolves. WOLVVVVES. You're making fun of your friend and you can't even say it yourself?
Me: Oh my god. I knew that yesterday.

So, the brain cells that knew the plural of wolf have bitten the dust. All in all, it could be worse. As long as I don't move to Alaska. With the wolfs.