Dichotomy. Trichotomy?

My inner voice appears to have two separate personas, which seems concerning but is probably nothing alarming. One voice is that of my Logical Thinking Brain, which weighs and values things in a concrete way, values evidence, and might be a psychopath. This is the part of my brain that informs me that I've done something stupid immediately after I've done it. The other voice is that of my Emotional Feeling Brain, which reacts rather than considers and cannot be reasoned with. This is the part of my brain that reminds me of stupid things I did a decade ago for no real reason.

There's also my Primitive Lizard Brain, which gurgles out my deepest instincts.

Emotional Feeling Brain and Primitive Lizard Brain are usually in agreement.

Logical Thinking Brain is kind of evil, but it also insists I do things like get out of bed and go to work when my alarm goes off in the morning. Emotional Feeling Brain tells me to shut it off and go back to sleep because bed is warm and fuzzy. My needlephobia basically consists of Primitive Lizard Brain screaming that we're all going to die, Emotional Feeling Brain insisting that this blood draw will cause an intolerable amount of pain, and my completely upstaged Logical Thinking Brain sitting in a corner insisting that it really won't hurt that bad and will be over really soon anyway so we might as well stop screaming. When I'm not having a nervous breakdown, Logical Thinking Brain runs the show with input from Emotional Feeling Brain and occasionally Primitive Lizard Brain. 

A few weeks ago I tossed a chunk of ice-encrusted potstickers into a pan of hot oil and started an impressive grease fire.

Emotional Feeling Brain took over and I ran in circles shouting for a few minutes.

Meanwhile, my Logical Thinking Brain was mumbling "Wait! I know how to solve this! There is an easy solution for this. I know the solution."

And then my Emotional Feeling Brain took over again.

In an entirely unexpected fashion.

Never have I been so high off my own spectacularness, and never for such a stupid reason. Despite knowing what a serious situation it was, I can't quite convince myself it was anything less than super awesome. This is why I tend to let Logical Thinking Brain remain in charge most of the time.

Paper.

Every so often I have to go through my house and perform paper abatement. This where I gather up all of the random pieces of paper littering every flat surface in the house, and then sort and file them. This is not unlike the weed and brush abatement that property owners are required to perform in fire-prone California.

A specific corner of the kitchen counter collects mail like a barbed wire fence collects tumbleweeds. This is where we tend to open and then abandon our mail for lack of anything else to do with it. Normally I get around to sorting, filing, and recycling the pile before it gets too tall, but occasionally it gets out of hand. Said pile is right next to the gas stove.

Z was cooking during Star Trek Night when the pile fell over and the corner of something slid just close enough to the stove to catch fire. By the time he convinced us that the kitchen was indeed on fire, the paper problem had sort of taken care of itself. The down side to this, aside from the scorch marks on the floor and ceiling, was that we lost pretty much everything we had received in the mail in the year prior. Medical bills, test results, invitations, catalogues, certificates, paycheck stubs, vehicle documentation...

There really isn't a tactful way to say "sorry, I incinerated your wedding invitation. When was it again?"