07/15/2009 Mrs. Literal

Over time, I have become incredibly literal, so much so that I almost consider it a handicap now. I don't think I was always this way. The past 5 years of genetic counseling training and work has made me into some type of detail-oriented monster that has no business considering alternative solutions to what is already staring me in the face. As my husband frequently says, "it is what it is." I've just taken it to a whole new level. Don't even bother giving me a crossword puzzle to do. I'll just end up staring at it forever, putting it down occasionally to clear my head, then picking it back up a few hours later to see if some magical power has allowed my mind to become more flexible in the interim. It never works, and after I've cheated by looking up the answer, I can't believe I couldn't think of the solution. Once my mind gets locked onto a possibility, it doesn't budge. We're (happily!) going to the Billy Joel/Elton John concert tomorrow evening at Wrigley Field. Upon telling this to my friend, she exclaimed, "Oh my gosh that's awesome! I'm so jealous! Where are your tickets? "They're in our safe," was my reply. I must have inherited this from my grandmother. There's a famous family story about a presidential election night back in the 1940's. My grandmother's very politically minded father-in-law yelled out from the kitchen, "How did Oklahoma go?" My grandmother took a deep breath and sang, "Oaaaklahoma where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain!”