A view of the human brain from the top shows that it looks similar to a whole walnut. Although larger. At least I hope mine is.

Some days I wonder if our brains aren’t turning into pretzels.

I answered two emails and three texts with nothing but emojis today and it dawned on me that we’ve just about come full circle.

Our ancestors used to paint pictures on cave walls to communicate, and here we are communicating with simple pictures once again. But instead of putting them on stone, we send them on mobile devices, some costing upward of $700.

And we think we’re the smart ones.

I have an entire list of things that make no sense:

I have one pair of feet and more than 20 pairs of shoes, one pair of eyes and three pairs of glasses. Numerically, it appears I favor my feet by a wide margin, which is categorically untrue.

I will never unravel the mystery of why people pay big money for ragged jeans. Ragged clothes have long been a stigma of shame for the poor — now they’re a status symbol for celebrities.

Years ago, people died from malnutrition and starvation. That is still true in some parts of the world today, but here we are killing ourselves with food. We have a hard time finding the happy medium when it comes to eating. Nearly every women’s magazine features pictures of dessert recipes alongside advertisements for workout clothes.

Whenever someone puts a hot plate in front of me and cautions that it is hot, as though I am age 6, as soon as the server turns around, I touch it. There’s a 6-year-old trapped inside my aging body.

There are some things that sound completely illogical, but in reality make perfect sense. I drive three miles to walk 3 miles on a trail. That makes no sense. But if you saw the beautiful trail, you’d understand.

Roaming through a brick and mortar bookstore the other day, I was astounded by the number of children’s picture books, authored and illustrated by adults, that go into great detail on the subject of toilet training. For thousands of years children were able to potty train without picture books, but now they need visual aids.

The husband takes the little shampoos and conditioners from hotels home with us, then I pack them when we go out of town again even though every hotel routinely stocks little shampoos and conditioners. (No, we don’t take toilet paper or bath towels.)

What makes me doubt our brains the most is how we are functioning as a nation. Many of us know exactly how many generations ago someone in our family came here from another country. In most cases they came eager to become Americans, to become part of a story larger than themselves. But now we are dividing and subdividing, splitting into factions, tribes and clans.

There is precious little focus on the things that unite us, and constant harping on the things that divide us. We no longer agree to disagree; we now disagree and destroy.

Self-destruction makes no sense.