I don't know what's wrong with me lately; either menopause is firing a warning shot across my forgetful bow, or its the medication. All I know is, I have to take great pains to remember things anymore. I made dinner plans with a friend a few weeks ago and completely forgot until the day after. Not only did I stand her up; I ended up forgoing a fabulous meal in exchange for a grilled cheese sandwich I made on bread heels and flipped with a spoon because all the spatulas were dirty. Then I went to bed at 10, counting the greatest pleasure of my evening as the moment when I got to take my contacts out and my bra off. Last week I agreed to meet someone to lend them something and forgot almost as soon as I said it; when the day came I took a nap instead and didn't show up.
I've fallen back in love with my Palm pilot; when I have to bug out early like I did today I set an alarm with a reminder that pops up on the screen to make sure I have everything I need when I go. This morning's list:
- Sandals
- Ambulance shirt
- Pager
- "Triumph of Caesar"
- Phone
My phone was charging quietly in the corner of my bedroom; in terrible danger of being left behind. The shirt and pager are for later when I'm on duty, the sandals are my house shoes and I needed them because I was doing a survey in a Japanese home. I had a tantalizingly small number of pages left to read in 'Triumph of Caesar" and its on interlibrary loan with NO RENEWAL so I needed to knock it out. I managed to remember all of those things and actually put them in a bag rather than running out the door with them crammed in a messy armload like an inefficient burglar. I even made myself a cup of coffee to take.
Route 6 East seems to be a never ending source of amusement. Very near the spot where Cow Pie Bingo was advertised a few weeks ago, a gaily painted yellow sign announced upcoming Lawnmower Races. (Someone needs to build these people a YMCA.) I got as far as Tunkhannock and decided two things: one, that it was time to return my coffee, and two, the weird waking dreams and vague delusions I was having while driving meant I needed a 10 minute power nap. I turned toward the Dunkin Donuts/Minimart/gas station combo and waited for oncoming traffic to clear so I could scope out a nap-worthy parking spot in the back. Pulling out of the DD lot was a local policeman. I looked at the four cars in front of me and made a bet with myself; that not one of them would pause and wave him out. None of them did. Passive aggressive much? I stopped, gave him the 'invitation hand', and he pulled out with a thank-you wave and was on his way. My little contribution to police karma in exchange for mercy shown me by the City of Corning. (From 54 in a 30 to 'Failure to Obey a Traffic Signal'. Thank YOU, Lt. Allard. I'd be happy to plead guilty and I may bake you cookies at Christmas.)
My customers were very pleasant and I was shortly on my way to enjoy the drive back. Some random observations/things that made me wish I had my camera:
- In front of a cute little cottage: a mailbox painted Williamsburg blue with a pistol neatly stenciled on the side. Coming out of the stenciled pistol: little stenciled hearts.
- I'm not up on current hitchhiking etiquette, but I'm pretty sure that guy on 6 East would fare better if he was actually wearing a shirt. Godspeed, tanned guy with a duffel bag.
- Why do companies around here seem to send the dimmest employees outside with the box of letters? The Wysox Comfort Inn offers 'Long Term Houseing'....the sad part is, it used to be spelled correctly, and someone un-corrected it. My beloved vet's office has Frontline and Advantage 'no perscription necessary'.
- Not misspelled, but bewildering, in front of our local florist shop: 'Educate Your Children With Flowers'.
Now the befrigged bullet point thing is giving me fits. I think I need more coffee.
Please go vote for me on Humor Blogs before you forget.
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8 comments:
I'm sure that was a sweet ride though. And BTW, thanks for commenting on my blog. If you search around, you may find some stuff about the Downingtown Farmers market. Nice.
I love long drives.
tried to vote for you but it didn't take me to the smileys?? i will try again, cuz your funny
Dr Z! Ah, the Downingtown Farmer's Market. The world's best source of Iron Butterfly albums, wallets on a chain, and furniture that nearly makes 'ugly' a fourth dimension. How I miss it.
Shonda: You should come with me. Then I wouldn't talk to myself so much.
April: Thanks! I know, my husband keeps telling me I have to do the dohickey html whatsit and insert That Which Makes It Work, and I can't figure it out: usually I end up whining "YOU do it for me!" and wandering off. I'll work on that.
I love your road trips. They're hilarious, you're hilarious and I'm laughing my blessed head off. Hey, I was through Scranton on the way to Canada this month. It was a lot nicer than I imagined it was. Go figure.
Dude. VERY few people make me actually LOL - but you do. Great post- keep 'em coming.:)
Kathy: Yeah, the Scranton area isn't bad. You have to hit it around Orthodox Easter and do some church bazaars. (Hint: wear loose pants.) The things those ladies do with cabbage and noodles.
Sue: Thank you! You and Kathy were actually the reason I broke down and figured out how to use Google Reader so coming from you, that is huge.
A parent "survey" from my kid's first grade teacher this year asked, "how would you describe your child's tempermant?" Here in Texas, realty is pronounced "rill-itty" and real estate agents say things like, "this house has a sweeping 'rod iron' staircase." The neighborhood school insists that all proceeds from the school carnival are "benefitting" the children. Don't even get me started on plural (and singular) possessives.
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