On my friend’s blog yesterday, she posted an entry saying her brain had turned to mush. I decided it must be going around. Take me, for example. In the last week I’ve forgotten my purse at work. Twice. I’ve walked out of the office leaving it hanging up on my coat tree, even though I have put on my jacket to leave, which has also been hanging on the coat tree. The first time I left it, I didn’t notice until the next morning when I was getting ready to leave for work. It was not hanging on the closet door knob, where it usually is, so I spent 20 minutes searching the house in a panic, thinking Sweetpea had decided it was better to drag my purse around than one of her many. I finally gave up, having run out of time, and just hoped it was still at work. Yup. It was. The second time I left it was just this last Tuesday. I had left work a little early to go and do some Halloween treat shopping. I didn’t notice it was missing until I pulled into the Big Lots parking lot, and went to get out of the car. No purse. Since I knew I had had it that morning, and I had been no where else, it could only have been on the coat tree at work. Do you know how very difficult it is to shop without a purse? Some people would say no problem, I do it all the time. Sure, but it becomes very difficult when that’s where your money is. Treat shopping got put on hold. And my best friend will probably require a little therapy, since I'm sure I turned her ears red with all the swearing I did when I discovered the absence of purse. (Yes, I was on the phone with her, and yes, I can swear with the best of sailors.)
It's wishful thinking to imagine that is the only evidence I have that I have developed a skull full of cream o' wheat. It's not. In the last couple of weeks I have also left my cell phone at work. Three times. Once I didn't remember until I'd gotten home, but the other two I remembered before I got to the car and went back for it. I have also left it at home once. I was about half-way to work before I realized it. And no, even though I immediately freaked out, I did not turn around and go back for it. How is it I managed to live 20 or so years without a cell phone, and now leaving it sitting on the dining room table is cause for sheer panic?
My daughter has had three accidents at daycare in the last three weeks. Since she is still in late stages of potty training, she does still have quite a few accidents. The first occurred when the teacher did not remind her to go potty before laying down for her nap. Mistake. Needless to say she woke up soaking wet, and that would be the reason for the use of her spare clothing. (We are supposed to keep her supplied with spare clothes to be stored at the daycare for instances such as these.) So I needed to replace the spares. I forgot. Of course. Last week she launched herself off of a table, crashed into a shelf (she led with her nose) and managed a bloody nose. Not to mention a bruise right across the bridge of her nose and two slightly black eyes. After the crash, she stood and cried without making any sort of effort to stop the blood, which, of course, poured down the front of her shirt. Why wouldn't it? It was a white shirt. *sigh* Damn that Murphy. Being that I had not replaced her spare clothing, she came home wearing her undershirt with the bloody shirt in a ziplock bag. To the daycare's credit, I would mention that the "table" is a child-size table that only stands about a foot high, and Sweetpea was apparently jumping to try and reach the paper Halloween bats that were hanging from the ceiling, which is also only about 6 feet high. The Halloween bats have now been banished as constant trouble-makers, and the teacher soaked the shirt in cold water. Though it came home damp, I believe we managed to get it clean. You would think with this incident, I would remember to send new spare clothes to daycare. You'd think, but nope, that wasn't the case. I still didn't remember. Today Sweetpea didn't quite make it to the restroom in time. She soaked her jeans, her underwear and her socks. Being that she did not have any spares, the teacher put her in a pair of pants belonging to the daycare for just these occasions. However, underwear and socks could not be found, so Sweetpea had to suffer sockless and commando all afternoon. Spare clothing is currently sitting on top of my purse ready to go for the morning. If only I can remember my purse.
It gets worse. I've gone shopping three times in the last week and all three times walked out of the store without something I needed. And no, none of the three items were the same. The kicker? Yep, you guessed it. All of the items were on my lists. I have yet to go back to get any of them. Yikes. I'm also discovering that the evidence of a mushy brain is not limited to forgetfulness. I noticed on my last blog that I said the icon to have updates to my blog emailed to you is located on the left side of the blog. Uh huh. There's nothing on the left side of my blog. It's all on the right. Yesterday in Court I told a fellow attorney that I had endorseded his Order online. Did you get that? EndorsedED.
I've also noticed the appearance of AOADD. That would be Adult Onset Attention Deficit Disorder. The signs of this? Here's an example. I pick up a cup to take to the kitchen. On my way I notice a book of Sweetpea's that has been left out. I put the cup down and head the other direction to her room. On my way by, I notice the bathroom light has been left on. I go to shut it off and notice some barrettes sitting in the soap dish on the sink. I set the book down, and pick up the barrettes to take to the hallway closet to put away. As I'm putting the barrettes away, I glance into the kitchen and see the rest of my coke that I have been looking all over for. I figure I better finish it. On my way to grab it, I remember I have a piece of chocolate in the fridge. Mmm, chocolate and coke. I open the fridge and find Sweetpea has shoved pieces of plastic food into the drawers and into the nooks and crannies on the door shelves. I gather up the food, and head back toward Sweetpea's room. On the way down the hallway, I trip over a cat who is laying across several of her catnip toys, loving them like there is no tomorrow. The cat screeches and runs, the plastic food flies everywhere, I swear up a storm until Sweetpea comes running to see what has happened and I have to stop. By this time I decide it is just a good time to give up and go to bed. The cup is still in the living room, the book is sitting on the toilet, the hallway closet door is standing wide open, my coke is still on the kitchen counter, there's plastic food scattered all over the hallway, I'm frustrated and tired and can't figure out why my house looks like a tornado hit it when I know I've been cleaning all night. I hear this gets worse as you get older. I somehow can't imagine that.
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