This morning, while debating the negative effect of out-group membership on attributional style, my professor literally stopped in the middle of the research meeting because he thought I seemed confused.

Bored, definitely. Confused? Nah.

Then, after I asked for a cup of coffee, the barista asked what size I wanted. I stopped to think for a second - and she thought that the difficulty of her question had stumped me.

Now, don't get my wrong, I'm no Doogie Howser ... but I think I can grasp the concept of small, medium, and large.

Finally, one of my coworkers wanted me to change the videotape in the camera in the lab because it was running low. Then, after a moment's pause, she said that I appeared befuddled by her request. As if I had suddenly become incapable of peforming simple motor skills.

Dear God, don't let me try to feed myself. I might poke my eye out.

I think the problem is my face. Now, before you start going all Dr. Laura on me and force me to repeat positive affirmations a la Stuart Smalley ... I have fine self esteem. The problem is, I think, naturally my face scrunches up with I'm thinking. Or listening. Or concentrating. Or breathing. So it is misconstrued as confusion.

Great. My default emotion is confusion. This is what I portray to the world.

No wonder people have a tendency to speak slowly to me. All this time, I thought it was a Delaware thing. Who knew that it's because everyone thinks I'm a bleeding idiot.

Note to self: From now on, make love in the dark. I don't even want to imagine what subtle messages, mistakenly interpreted as confusion, I've conveyed to my husband over the years. Sheesh, I'm surprised he didn't draw me a diagram our first time.

After much careful contemplation, to eliminate my expression problem, I think I should invest in a paper bag. Don't have to worry about a bad hair day AND I would be recycling. So, yeah for the environment.

However, my grocery store only uses plastic bags.

And, last time I checked, placing a plastic bag over my head qualified as a suicide attempt.

Oh well. Guess that stratches that idea.

Might as well look on the bright side. At least I'll always be smarter than I look.

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