I ran out of words ⁰

A funny thing happened to me today.

I ran out of words.

Anyone who knows me realizes this is highly unusual — I’m kind of notorious for not being able to shut my trap, and that’s putting it delicately. But today? Today I have nothing to say, nothing to write and nothing to blog.

I’m quite literally fresh out of words.

That phrase makes it sound as if words are like eggs or flour. Something you occasionally use up and need to replenish with a quick trip to the store, or a knock on a friendly neighbor’s door.

I didn’t really want to borrow words from my neighbor. Not that I have anything against him, but he swears a lot, and this blog has standards.

Kind of.

I was left with the option of picking up words at the supermarket, but feared plagiarizing the National Inquirer on the Internet could have serious legal consequences, not to mention the fact that the checker would totally think less me for buying a copy. (And let’s be honest. Nothing is worse than a judgmental stare from a supermarket clerk. Anyone who’s ever gone through the express checkout with nothing but tequila, Preparation H, and Frosted Flakes knows this.)

All jokes aside, I really do think something is wrong with me, and I’m not just talking about writer’s block. Or something you would need Preparation H for. For instance, last night Scott bought a king size sleeve of Reese’s Peanut Butter cups and I didn’t even want any.

I rest my case.

In an effort to pinpoint my mysterious ailment, I found myself returning to the doctor I’ve been seeing for years.

You might know him as the WebMD Symptom Checker.

I entered “lack of appetite”, “reduced productivity” and “difficulty concentrating” as my symptoms. When asked if my difficulty concentrating was the result of scuba diving, I obviously checked “yes” as technically, I did go scuba diving in Mexico a few months ago, and I didn’t want to risk an inaccurate diagnosis as the result of not disclosing my full medial history.

My result?

Postpartum depression.

So, either WebMD went to medial school in Honey Boo Boo’s back yard, or I have a really bad memory.

Here’s hoping it’s the first one.