In a conversation - with myself - I referred to my brain using the male pronoun. Interesting I thought.
It's true that my brain is very chauvinistic and old-fashioned, thinking a woman's place is in the home. When I wondered what I could do after cleaning and before I have to go out he said, 'Anything as long as it's useful.'
When I asked him what constituted 'useful' he replied, 'You know, cleaning, washing, ironing, that sort of stuff.'
When I pointed out that I'd already done quite a lot of cleaning today and a rest would be nice he did one of those disapproving faces.
'Does writing count as useful?' I asked.
'Hm, that's a tricky one. I'd like to say yes but really ... what do you think?'
'I think whatever you think; you are my brain after all and the bit of me that's supposed to think.'
'True, so in effect I am your boss.'
'I wouldn't say that. Sometimes I do what my heart says.'
Brain shakes himself sadly. 'Always foolish.'
I'm having difficulty doing anything very much at the moment as we have two very demanding house guests.