Nobody ever warned me that I'd turn into a blathering idiot when I hit 50. I can't remember shit (sorry, Mom, that's your word, I know). I repeat myself, repeat myself, repeat myself; swear I brought things home but instead left them elsewhere (yes, Nicole, my favorite cooler was still at the cabin), look for clothes I sent to the Goodwill long ago, have imaginary friends and can't remember quite significant things I did 20 years ago. I get back from vacation and can't remember my e-mail PIN. Thank God I wrote it down before I left. So far I haven't left my keys in the refrigerator, but I know that could be coming sooner than I expected.
I thought only truly old people did this. Heck, my mom didn't start getting "scattered" like this until she hit 70-something. And instead of letting this frustrate her, she just bought more PostItTM notes.
So far this isn't all that debilitating, luckily. I don't usually get lost in the car, embarrass people or myself unintentionally or act legally insane. I probably annoy my children and my husband more than I do myself -- they already know I'm kind of OCD anyway. But when I try to lighten up a bit and am not compulsively tidying my house/workspace/dresser drawers, this is what happens. Promise me: If I get dangerously forgetful, hide the keys in the fridge. That would scare me into submission.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Reflections on middle age in the 'burbs
Blog Archive
- April (1)
- December (1)
- September (1)
- July (1)
- June (1)
- April (1)
- March (1)
- February (1)
- January (3)
- December (3)
- November (3)
- October (2)
- September (2)
- August (3)
- July (3)
- June (4)
- May (4)
- April (6)
- March (3)
- February (4)
- January (2)
- December (3)
- November (2)
- October (5)
- September (3)
- August (2)
- July (4)
- June (6)
- May (9)
- April (6)
- March (3)
2 comments:
Sad. I left my keys in the fridge the other day. John went to make himself a wrap and asked me how funny I thought I was being by leaving my keys in the deli drawer.
The worst part is that I'd been planning a trip to the grocery store to restock the deli drawer, and was unable to go once I lost my keys. I was on my way out the door and I stopped to check the level of Pepper Turkey! I never made it to the store that night!
I've also left them in my undies drawer, balled up in the back corner with the laundry-day rejects (I think I was in a rush to pack a sports bra for the gym... I think...). They were gone for three days that time.
I put them in my toothbrush holder one morning, when I was rushing out the door and almost forgot to brush my teeth so had to rush back and take care of that. I was an hour late for work.
I like to think that my brain has more important things to focus on, like errant apostrophes and grammatical errors. If I didn't, there's no telling what would happen. :)
Hmm. Chemo is turning me into a blathering idiot, and I'm all but 40. The other day at Mississippi Market, I completely blanked on my membership number, which I usually can recite as readily as my phone number. I just stood there with my jaw jumbling around ... "Uh, I think it has a 5 in it ... or maybe a 7 ..."
Post a Comment