Sunday, October 11, 2020

Three strikes

I try to be on the lookout for mental troubles in me. But doing so isn't easy.  I can be absent-minded over just about anything at any time.  


This morning, I woke up and saw that my two clocks were off.  They are digital clocks and they didn't say the correct time.  I put some water on my face to wake up and I remembered my mother's trick of waking in the middle of the night, convinced it was dawn and time to get up.  I went back and looked again.  Nothing wrong with the clocks.  I just had another four hours of sleep coming.  I took them gladly.


I drank some coffee and felt something odd.  I heard a little squeaky sound.  Wiped my chin but found nothing.  Another drink, another odd feeling, another squeak.  Looked more carefully and found a teaspoon in the mug.  


On Sunday mornings, I made oatmeal with banana, apple, raisins, craisins, and nuts.  What?  No bananas.  Usually one of us notices we are short and we replenish the supply.  Usually they get written on the grocery list.  Better look again.  Looked again.  Looked more carefully.  No bananas.  Made the oatmeal without bananas.  Putting away the milk, I thought I saw something  yellow.  Look, a bread wrapper, the sort of wrapper associated with the bread we buy, contains some bananas.  


That is my set of three mistakes for today.  I am out of goof-ups and solemnly promise not to make any more. (Today!)

Popular Posts

Follow @olderkirby