I'm just going to admit it today, then let it pass. I am pretty smart. Sometimes the smartest people humble themselves so they don't seem so smart. And, yes, I've been guilty of that many times, like in school. But not today. Today, you're looking at Super Brain, fully exposed.
If you knew me in everyday life, you'd know I more or less live at the library. I'm a regular fixture there, with others nodding to me, giving me a wave, and coming by to ask what I'm researching or interested in today. I love that, too; that's part of the fun of being smart; a symposium can break out at any moment. Our minds being together like that, it's like mentally swimming in the air, drifting up to the rafters. Very stimulating.
Here's another interesting detail to throw in. I'm not bragging, but the library literally invested in a fleet of shopping carts because of me. Some of the staff saw me, the way I go through the library, as though it's a grocery store, picking up many books for the day's perusal. I must have presented quite a sight, my arms loaded down with books, books spilling over, and some even falling to the floor! I'd scoop them up and manage the best I could, but truly it got to be too much.
Now that we have shopping carts, my day starts out in a much more orderly way. I walk in, get a cart, and begin my journey up one aisle and down another. Of course I start in the new books section, where they keep the freshest stuff. I like non-fiction, since that's what keeps me on top of my game in terms of actual knowledge. Fiction's good, I've found, more for concepts "acted out" by characters, and characterizations themselves.
I take my cart down each of the aisles, then, picking up whatever catches my eye as something that would feed me intellectually and stimulate my thoughts. I'm voracious like that, whether by native curiosity, or it could just be another obsession I feel must be fed. I've always been obsessive, and age hasn't slowed it down. Rather, seeing time slip away, I'd say I'm more obsessive. Think of it: I didn't always need a shopping cart for what probably should be a slower pick and choose process. Now I'm so frantic, it takes 20 minutes of breathing exercises to get settled. 10 when I think of time slipping away.
Because time waits for no man, as I just read earlier this morning in Bartlett's, and it waits least of all me, who am always in a hurry, and someone who must be satisfied, whatever it takes, even if some sacrifice is required. I've been up today since the crack of dawn, laboring over my books, then occasionally glancing up at the clock, then redoubling my efforts as time's sped along.
I have that sense right now, in fact, that maybe in sketching out my intelligence for you -- and this labor continues till this very second -- I'm wasting time that could be better spent learning a few more sayings, wisdom, and filling brain cells somehow still empty. That's another thing about age. Brain cells become like cracks around windows on a winter's day; something always needs restuffed. Gotta hurry!
Anyway, to continue on, after my shopping cart (carts) is/are full, it's time for checkout. Everyone stands back as I scan my goods, which can take up to 25 minutes, depending on whether other clamorous intellectuals like me are present. The library then has a kid in a white apron who wheels it out to my car. I make it home, spend the rest of the day at the pursuit of knowledge -- with occasional bathroom breaks -- until the next day, when everything goes back and the process begins again.
It's great being so smart, so very very very intelligent. Super Brain out!
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