So this is how my day went. I was about to put my watch back on after my shower, but decided not to because I hadn't filled the air with all of my hair product. That usually leaves a sticky film on everyone and everything within 50 feet. These days, I seem to forget little things, like where the heck did I put my watch 5 minutes ago, in the broom closet I live in. On top of my bed is the usual repository and after tearing it and the half dozen pillows apart, I still couldn't find it. I was trying to get out to see my Mom, and this time I would remember to take my handy dandy iPhone with me, so I would know the time. Having forgotten my wallet at home the day before, I would also take that with me, you know, just in case. If only I could find that too.
No problem in finding the
f-sharps as I tore the rest of the apartment apart. My heart was in my
boots when I remembered (!) that I had needed some info from it for my
computer yesterday, and I had left it on the La Z Girl. And it wasn't
on, in or under that. I also remembered gathering up newspapers the day
before and taking them and a bunch of other recycling, down to the
recycling room. And good Lord, could that be where my wallet met its
end? Then I remembered St. Anthony and whipped off a quick prayer to
him, for my wallet and my watch. On a whim, I checked out the newly
started recycling bag, and there was the wallet, in with that day's
newspaper. I was still kind of bummed out about the watch, but I thought
to leave well enough alone, then rolled up my sleeves as I usually do
and found the damned watch on my wrist.
Finding my car
in the hospital parking lot should be so easy. I used to be the
navigator in the family. The Ex Boy needed a map, I just needed
intuition, and it never failed me. Which is why I am divorced. Nowadays,
I think I would need a map to get out of a paper bag, never mind a GPS
to find my car in any parking lot other than my own underground. Every
day I visit my Mom, every day I take a mental note of where I parked my
car, and every day I walk out of the hospital with absolutely no clue as
to where it is. I haven't had to resort to firing off the panic button,
The girls went out for dinner last night, in the big mall close
to where I live, that I know like the back of my hand. I even checked
the map at the entrance, the kind that says "You are here" and that the
resto was over there. With great confidence I slogged my way through the
army of Christmas shoppers for 10 minutes, until without a doubt I knew
I was going the wrong way.
But really, the
thing that made feel really old was this: reading glasses with lights
on the temples, like headlights so you can read menus etc. in dimly lit
places. I actually, seriously, considered buying them. Then I shook my
head. Makes me wonder why restaurants are always so dimly lit, do we all
have ugly dates? When I was young, I was near sighted, as I got older,
the presbyopia set in. Now I can't see who I am eating with. Already
can't hear them. By the time I have myself geared up for all these
deficits, I will look like R2D2 with all the bells and whistles. Woohoo,
look out world, here I come!
And now I am heading out to play "Where's Waldo?' with my car.
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