"Good evening, Ms. Wonder," I said.
"Good morning," she said.
This surprised me. Thinking back, I was sure that I had taken a nap right after dinner.
"Are you sure," I said. "It seems dark outside."
"The skies are overcast this morning. It's supposed to rain all day."
"Poopsie, I think we've had enough cloud cover for one month, don't you? I don't like the way I feel when the sun refuses to shine. I think even the bluebird cries in her beer at Mattie B's."
"It may be seasonal affective disorder," she said. "Many people suffer from it in winter, especially now during the most depressing days of the year."
"I don't see what's more depressing about this time of year over any other," I said. "I keep a calendar of depressing days and I've found that I'm pretty much affectively disordered throughout the whole damn year."
"You may not be aware of the formula for determining the most depressing day of the year," she said. "It uses factors for weather plus the amount of debt you've accumulated and multiplies that by the days since Christmas raised to the power of the days since you've failed your first New Year resolution. "
"Poopsie," I said.
"That value is divided by the product of your motivational level multiplied by the critical level of your need to take action," she continued. "The result gives you the exact date of the most depressing day of the year."
Don't you find it annoying when someone is dumping more information than you can bear and then fails to abate the nuisance when you try to change the subject? Well, I do and it occurred to me that I don't have to allow it.
"Well, let me tell you something that you may not be aware of," I said. "I majored in math at MTSU and, although I did not excel in my studies, I know that anyone who works out a formula like that cannot help but experience a disordered seasonal affect."
"Effect is the correct word," she said, "meaning result or consequence. Affect conveys the idea of an influence or control over something."
"Thank you, Poopsie," I said. "Something you bumped up against in the last few days?"
"Yep," she said, "but you must admit the words are easily confused."
"It's just too much, Ms. Wonder," I said, getting back to the point, "too much to deal with this morning. You're sure it's morning are you?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to hit the reset button and go back to bed."
"I thought you might feel that way. You will find one of my pick-me-ups on the table in the insulated mug."
I looked and by a strange coincidence, she was right. "Ah, thank you," I said.
"Not at all," she said.
I bunged the tissue restorer down the hatch and waited for the usual unpleasantness to pass. As expected, the top of the skull ricocheted off the ceiling, the eyeballs popped out and rolled around the floor, with Eddy and Abbie chasing after.
Once retrieved and replaced properly, I felt that I could face the day. I'm not sure of the exact ingredients of her special concoction but I'm sure there's Blenheim's Ginger Ale in the mix.
I took a deep breath. "I am powerful," I said to no one in particular. I took a second breath. "Life is good." I took a third breath. "I am enough for today."
"Ms. Wonder," I said, "life comes hard and fast but today I am ready for anything."
"That's great," she said, "I knew you'd feel better and that's why I don't hesitate to point out that you have 6 messages waiting for you on your phone. I heard the alerts."
Normally, this news would give me the bum's rush but with the recent tissue restorer doing its best, I felt that I could handle anything that Life cared to bung my way.
"Fierce Qi Gong, Poopsie!" I said.
"Fierce Qi Gong," she said.