Forgetfulness

I had a great plan for completing this flash fiction assignment. I came across the beginning of a story written some time ago on lined pages of mini-pads. I would take that germ of an idea and dictate it onto my laptop.

Like a lot of things lately, I don’t know where that pad is. I thought I’d put it under my laptop. No such luck. Funny: St. Patrick’s Day is Monday. Might I have the luck of the Irish? I do have an Irish last name (my ex-husband’s).

How far should I go in retracing my steps to find it? This exercise runs almost like clockwork because I’m always misplacing things. I can’t even remember what the story was about. I can swear I had it in my hot little hands yesterday.

So…guess I’ll have to come up with another idea.

Perhaps - each time I perform one of my frantic searches - I should keep a log. Mark down the missing item, how long I searched and, if I located the item, where the hell it was.

Things I’ve lost lately: 

• My faux leopard winter coat. It could be at Wake Med in Raleigh, UNC Johnston (Smithfield) or one of the three ambulances I rode in after my car accident in Nov 2023. Gone for good ☹️.

• A pair of prescription glasses lost later that same month. Never found; they had to be reordered. ☹️

• Dropped my phone stylus down the side of my recliner. It’s a hungry piece of furniture.

• No matter what it is I look for, it “disappears.” ☹️

• That first pair of glasses went the way of my stylus. ☹️

• Dust bunnies were all I could find.🫣

• A check I needed to mail to the treasurer: search time was 1-½ hours. Finally found it in my purse (halleluja). 😁

• The last time my son visited, I lost my latest pair of Rx glasses. We both searched the house to no avail. When I rechecked my bedside table that evening, I spotted the blue wired frames had fallen to one side, caught in a maze of electric cords.😄

• My large tube of sensitive toothpaste seemed to vanish. This was a real head-scratcher. Turns out, the tube had somehow found its way into a plastic tub with other, smaller tubes of creams and ointments. That mystery wasn’t solved until Day 2.😁

Is losing things (my mind being one of them) my Special Power? It sure isn’t Finding Lost Things. At my age, I worry that 

I. Am. Losing. It.

But then, surely I have lots of company (or at least I hope I do). My shrink did an impromptu cognition test (elephant, camera, TV; draw an analog clock). This exercise was in answer to a conversation we had about… you know…

I often blame the cat for rearranging items around the house. This time I can’t do that. Sure; everyone misplaces stuff. It’s just happens so often, to what can I attribute this frequent inconvenience? There’s just Tulip and me. I can blame bad odors on to her litter box. (Okay; sometimes I am the stinker). Who can tell? The litter box is outside the main bathroom, which increases the chances that I shall remain blameless.

Yeah. Old age stinks.

#forgetfulness

#old_age

#cats

Mostly Reclaimed Kitchen

 

Tulip won! 

I'd largely given up cordoning off most of the kitchen countertop. Of course, half my magnets were moved onto a cookie sheet, now hanging in my bedroom. Although I TRY to keep Tulip out of trouble, she continues to:

• Walk on any clean or dirty dishes.
• Nibble on the paper towels.
• Jiggle the toaster's lever. 
• Disturb the "coffee bar" atop the microwave.
• Mess with items on the stovetop shelf. 
• Those things now sit inside the blue cabinet (one of her favorite perches).
• Now she walks on the shelf, unimpeded.
• Just like she planned all along.

Tulip is the living dictionary definition of a curious cat.

Telling Our Stories 2/27/25

The prompt our little writers' group received is: "I'm Looking At."

I'm looking at my friends gathered at the Telling Our Stories table. I did not know any of these people when I joined the JoCo Writers Group. I mean, maybe they're just acquaintances. But it seems to me that we've each shared so much of ourselves. That makes them friends to me.

I count myself lucky for having known you for the past five-ish years. How you-all feel about me matters, too. Not how you feel about my writing, but how you feel about me as a person.

I'm looking outward as well as inward.

I can hear Dr. Wanda's pen scratching as she writes the assignment. Sherwood is clearing his throat as he considers what thoughts he can't write down due to his broken arm. The rest of our group is diligently scribbling down what they are looking at.

I wonder if our stories will be alike, or the usual mix of unique perspectives. "It's all good."

#writingprompt 

#friends

Fugged-about-it!

There are two well-known phrases attributable to New Jersey (my former stomping grounds). 

"Crazy Eddie's prices are In-Sane!" and "Fugged-about-it!" They were often used together in the same television commercial.

What I have forgotten is: 

• Where in the heck did I put my composition book? I remembered our homework assignment (whatever it was) is due today. 

• Where is that medical bill I need to address? This will be the third month I need to call.

• Which writing conferences have I registered for? I know that for one, I need to make hotel reservations. Both are happening in May.

#memory 

#writingconferences 

#debts

#gettingold