Pregnancy Brain

Though research has produced mixed results, I'm going to come right out on the side of those who support the theory that "pregnancy brain" is a legitimate scientific phenomenon, not only because its existence makes me feel better about my absent-mindedness, but also because it just took about 5 attempts for me to spell the word "phenomenon." 

In recent weeks, the ups and downs of emotional instability seemed to have leveled out, but they've been replaced with bouts of temporary amnesia and flat out IQ loss.  I wake up in the morning and open the refrigerator to look for a box of cereal.  On a good day I eat that cereal with milk rather than soaked in orange juice.  A couple of weeks ago I tried playing it safe with some oatmeal, but the bowl didn't make it out of the microwave before I forgot about it and drove to work. 

I'm afraid in some cases, my work is suffering as well.  I've forgotten assignments or finished them twice before realizing they were already done.  I tried posting content to a website by typing it into the Google search bar, and went so far as to call a co-worker for assistance before realizing why that approach wouldn't work.  I spent 20 minutes designing an animated graphic that I promptly deleted without saving or exporting.  At that point, I wasn't even surprised or upset.  It was almost time to go home, so I cut my losses and hoped that the part of my brain that knew how to operate a car would still be intact for at least the next 15 minutes.

I'm not sure how long this "pregnancy brain" is supposed to last, or how long I'll be able to use it as an excuse for my recent hopeless inattention to detail.  Earlier on in my pregnancy I tried to get into my gym using my Starbucks Gold Member card.  Just the other day a restaurant server chased me down in the parking lot because I'd forgotten to sign my bill.  I'm going to assume that this condition typically lasts the entire duration of pregnancy and perhaps a few months after the baby is born, at which point "pregnancy brain" will be re-termed "sleep deprivation."

I started to consider hiring some sort of personal assistant to help me out.  Someone to follow me around turning off ovens, locking doors and picking up my purse from the back of restaurant chairs, (or the counter of the hair salon where I almost left it yesterday.)  Then, I realized this person already exists.  His name is Drew.