Well, I'm still not dead...

I took a really hard knock to the noggin' yesterday night. Banged it against the corner of the shelf when I stood straight up from switching on the computer plug.

Though I didn't see stars, I got nauseous after an hour or so, but I wasn't sure whether it was a concussion or  whether it was from using my computer too long.

The part of my skull that got bumped still tingles, but it doesn't feel like there's any lasting damage to my brain matter.

I mean, I still love movies. Still love the entertainment industry and all its gossip.

[Still in love with The Avengers.]

I can still tell when I'm being emotional (read: hormonal) over nothing.

I still have a thing for Tom Hiddleston, though I find it a bit odd that an actor worth his salt would hawk his own autograph, if not for charity. None of the other A-listers do it.

Unrequited love is still the story of my life.

My math skills has gone a bit down. I tried to mentally calculate what's 52.30 divided by 6 and I arrived at 8.6-ish.

[It's 8.71]

And just now I found it a bit of a struggle to divide 48 by 3. I thought the answer was 6.

[It's actually 16.]

Shit.

But I'm still a grammar Nazi, which is a good thing.

Sigh. Hope I don't need to get a CAT scan.