Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Losing My Mind

I think I'm losing my mind. The past 48 hours have been one forgetful moment after another, and I'm not sure what the reason is. Let me enlighten you:

4:30 p.m. Monday, June 4

Huge hailstorm blows through SCC. We get paintball-sized hail for a good three minutes, with lots of rain before and after.


Not once does the thought occur to me that it was sunny and hot earlier that day, hence why I decided to leave my windows cracked open. That's right, just enough to get my seats soaking wet.

5:00 p.m. Monday, June 4 

Go home to change clothes, let my dogs out and get a towel to dry my seats. Keep forgetting things in the house, so I probably walk back and forth from my car to the house about three times. On the third time, after I lock the door, walk out of the house, and get into my car, I realize I just locked myself out of my house. I try the garage door, then go around back and luckily the sliding glass door is unlocked (one of the few times being forgetful came in handy). Whew, crisis averted. Or so I thought.

2:30 p.m. Tuesday, June 5

Go home for lunch, let my dogs out, eat lunch and read on my Kindle. The normal routine. When it is time to go back to work, I go to my backyard to call my dog Bailey inside, and she is nowhere to be found. This is a usual occurrence though. She is a mischievous little one and can often be found underneath our deck or hiding behind a bush digging holes and getting into things. So I didn't freak out, at first. But another minute goes by and I still don't see her. Then it hits me.

I left the gate open from yesterday when I had locked myself out of the house. Now I'm freaking out. I take off from the porch and run frantically around the house screaming her name, my heart pounding. Two thoughts run through my head:

  1. She is never coming home. 
  2. My boyfriend is going to kill me. 
Tears well up in my eyes as I run to the front yard and still no sign of her. I run to the backyard again. Nothing. I run inside to grab my car keys to take off looking for her, and guess who is sitting in my living room looking as innocent as can be.


Yup, it's her. I want to scream, cry and hug her all at the same time. So I hug her and shower her in kisses and vow I'll never be mad at her for anything again (yeah, right). Who knew I loved this little trouble maker so much? I still haven't summoned up the courage to tell my boyfriend about this yet, but I don't think he reads my blog unless I tell him to so I think I'm safe. :) Although this was the worst part of my forgetfulness, my story's not over yet.

1:30 p.m. Wednesday, June 6

Go home for lunch to find out my Kindle is missing. Look all over the house for it, even email a few people. Text my boyfriend, who smartly replies with, "I don't know, but it's probably with my Nike hat and Macy's gift cards that you lost." I reply, "Not funny." But it's true. I not only manage to lose my own things, but his stuff, too.

I retrace my steps for the last 24 hours, remembering the last time I saw my Kindle I was reading it at lunch yesterday. Still can't find it. Decide to read an actual book instead, Heaven is For Real. While reading it, I try to turn the page by tapping it. I literally laugh out loud, forgetting (again, notice a theme here?) that I'm not reading my Kindle Touch. Then I do it again. Ah, technology. How you've managed to help us yet cripple us at the same time.

As I get ready to leave, I'm still trying to figure out where in the heck I left my Kindle, when it hits me again. I get a flashback of yesterday, running outside in a panic to find my dog. I walk out to the back porch to find my Kindle sitting outside on the railing. Thank GOODNESS it didn't rain in the last 24 hours!

Doesn't this sound like one of those DirecTV commercials about how one decision can set off a terrible chain of events?

When it's sunny and hot out, you want to leave your windows cracked open. When you leave your windows cracked open, it hails and your seats get all wet. When your seats get all wet, you go home angry and in a hurry, lock yourself out of your house. When you lock yourself out of your house, you leave the side gate open. When you leave the side gate open, you think your dog has escaped and ran away. When you think your dog has ran away, you get upset and misplace your Kindle for 24 hours. Don't lose your Kindle. Roll your windows up, even if it's sunny out.

5 comments:

  1. This sounds all too familiar...definitely must be one of "those" weeks :)

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  2. Just wait until you hit thirty, it gets worse.

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  3. Sounds like an Alanis Morissette song ...

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  4. I am so glad you 'found' your dog. That can be so scary!

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  5. Comical and well-written. Unfortunately, I could completely identify!

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