I watch Lumosity commercials like men watch Viagra commercials. If only I could be sure...it couldn't hurt...what have I got to lose... Oh, heck! Why not! Nobody will know!
And so, I signed up for the free portion of Lumosity.
Oh, Wonderful Wizard of Lumosity!
Allow me to introduce myself!
I. Am. Tin. Man.
E Pluribus Unum is I.
Free stuff = A little is better than nothing.
Oh, Great Wizard!
I cast myself down before you!
Evaluate my brain!
And, so he did. With a quick click-click-click evaluation, he prescribed games that are sure to fix my empty little tin head.
After about 3 days of "gaming," I felt the need to pony up to the full-meal-deal 1-year membership which promised even further evaluation of my cognitive abilities AND the key to all of the locked games that tease the freebie members. (Lumosity sent me an email offering me a "one-time-crazy-low rate." It was cheaper than a good pair of shoes. My brain is worth way more than a good pair of shoes.)
With the membership, you get added extras that give you TMI.
So, I thought, "Hmm. I wonder..."
And then I thought, "But surely..."
The Wizard's games are sure to help me for I have no ruby slippers.
I am counting on each and every "Benefit."
Today's challenge: Quit calling the site "Lumenosity." I can't seem to drop that unnecessary syllable.
I'll keep you posted on my brain's progress. If and only if I can remember to do so.