Thinking very dangerously.
I've got my brain held hostage. There's a tiny little time bomb ticking in my head, and unless I get what I want, there'll be fluid on the walls before the night is done.
I've tried negotiation, bargaining. It doesn't work. I've had to resort to outright threats - extortion, blackmail.
For everyone else it seems to be no problem. Their brains co-operate with them often, on a daily basis even. I'm not quite sure how they do it - I know only that I used to be able to, but I've somehow lost the knack.
So it's come to this. A little C-4, or something. I'm not too sure. The man in the box said that it would do what I wanted, and I had no need for further questions - just handed over my crisp favours and walked away, my eyes twinkling.
Getting hold of the problem was easy. Divisions are easy to come by in these divided times. It had to be division - I'm all too capable of everything else. Fractions, even. I can do fractions. And multiplying comes as easy to me as everyone else. Simple stuff.
Ah, but the division.
I'm too tempted to hit up a calculator for the answer. The sweet relief of a clearly laid out number, a decimal point and some digits. The decimal is important - if the answer was an integer I'd grab it out of the air - I'm not that dumb.
No, this answer leads to an incomplete number. The child in me wants to revert to the 'remainder' system of years 2, 3 and 4. I almost need to scream to myself "NO!". I need to do long-division. I need to, for the first time. That or I explode my head.
I've tried a couple of times now - cursory little jaunts into the territory, a quick look around at the veranda, and then the scribbling of "Argh!" on the page.
This seems to be it then. I'm not managing it. We're not working together, my brain and I. And if we can't co-operate on this, how are we going to manage everything else?
My finger. Is on the button.