After I woke up from a concussion 3 years ago, my friend Jean kept worrying that I might have a personality change. Not that she’s uncritical of my personality – I think she just didn’t want to have to get used to somebody new. After a few weeks, she reported that she couldn’t detect any changes.

But there has been one change that I’ve noticed. I’ve developed a voice in my head that interrupts my thoughts with the statement, “that’s random.”

I can be enjoying a fresh peach and the voice will tell me “it’s random to like fresh peaches.” I can be walking down a grocery aisle and find my self hurrying away from the perfumed soaps. The voice will tell me, “It’s random that you don’t like that smell.” It’s random that I like cuddles. It’s random that I like to write. It’s random that I dislike crowds and noisy places.

Okay – my life is random.

Recently, my Toastmasters board meeting was scheduled to be held outdoors. Our President was concerned about the weather. I promised him that it wouldn’t rain. I’m a weather witch. I can make such promises. We met outdoors. We heard thunder. We saw dark clouds. We even felt a few sprinkled drops. But it didn’t rain. I biked there and I biked back without problems. Sometimes people believe me. Sometimes they don’t. That is random.

Today I got a rave review of one of my screenplays that I wrote with Jean. The reviewer said, “This has clearly been written by a couple of professionals who know exactly what they are doing. The structure, the plot, the introduction of new ideas, it’s all been executed almost perfectly. Nothing, of course, is ever perfect, but this comes pretty damned close.” But it didn’t win. That, too is random.

I mentioned this voice that says, “that’s random” to my husband, the alien. He agreed that everything is indeed random. He’s so used to the concept that he doesn’t think it’s worth mentioning. So, it’s even random if people notice that everything is random.