Brain dead

I am brain dead.  I have lost the ability to think.  I cannot remember the last time I sang a different nursery rhyme to the little boy other than the one that keeps going round in my head, I don't even know what it's called and I picked it up like a nasty cold at a toddler group.  I used to run a music group in London with a plethora of songs and yet - blank.

My feet are cold.  My hands forget what they are doing and my face cannot remember how to smile.  I don't feel miserable, sad, lonely or blue, just brain dead.  I'm wearing the same clothes as yesterday and the day before and the day before that?  Just changing my underwear, I think.  Did I eat breakfast?  What do I want for dinner?  What's the date?  I just want to eat chocolate.  A cup of tea please with a chocolate biscuit. NOW.

This is just a temporary state of mind, I assure myself.  It's something like the morning after a night out feeling, if I remember that correctly.  The problem is I don't think I can allow myself to feel like this.  Zombified.  Frozen in a timewarp.  I mean I'm a mother now.  I have a house to run, responsibilities, a husband to love and a darling child to amuse.  No room for mindwandering.  Washing to be done.  Bloody chutney to make still - why won't the marrow's just get bored of waiting around looking larger than they should and wander off to pastures greener?

I need a maid.  Someone to come and clean my house.  Clean me!  Clean out the cobwebs in my brain!  Make room for some life!  Help me find the energy to be me again when the day is done. Brain dead.