Something happens to me when the beep sounds at the end of an answering machine message. In that split second, my brain is completely emptied of it contents. It doesn't matter how prepared I am for the phone call, or even if I know that I'll be leaving a message. That beep goes off and I forget everything. I forget who I called and why I called them. I forget the date and don't really know if it's even night or day. I can't remember how I dialed the phone number or how I got the handset next to my ear. I forget how to use my mouth when speaking. I forget my name and the civilization I live in. I usually do remember that I need to speak, though, and so I always leave a bumbling, incoherent, spit-strewn message. Usually, this is the point in correspondence at which the other party realizes that my IQ lies far below the national average and begins to treat me like a small child. Which is fine. Sometimes I get candy.