Of all the things I miss,
Such silly little things. Such a big ego. Today I was running an errand or two for my dear 84 year old poppa' bear.
Wouldn't open. I went around the other side and did the same. Panic and confusion filled any available recesses of sanity and I wondered what to do next. Then a trickle of hope tickled my inner child as I remembered that there was a telephone number on my rear window. I would call and they would pop my locks.
I fiddled with my keys and found the one that should have opened the door. I fiddled and tried the seven or eight keys on my chain. What was going on? None fit. I looked inside the car, and to my chagrin...I didn't recognize the tidy inners. The folded blanket. The dangling chain. I saw the neatly placed items in the little cup holders and realized that I'd just been trying to break into someone else's car.
I think I miss my mind the most.
Have I said that before? Probably. Humour me. Chemo brain on the loose again...
Such silly little things. Such a big ego. Today I was running an errand or two for my dear 84 year old poppa' bear.
Dad...if you are reading this, do turn away. Go check the latest family shenanigans on Facebook.
For the rest of you, I guess I am looking for a bit of sympathy...empathy...pity...maybe.
Dad had called me earlier and asked me to pick up a gift certificate from the local bistro and take it over to his friend's place. It was a nice birthday gift. It was a nice gesture. Now if I could have only found a nice way to tell him I forgot to stop and pick it up, then it wouldn't have been so bad.
I arrived at Dad's and lo and behold, I looked him in the eye and suddenly became aware that I had neglected to do the task. Panic took over and I immediately dashed out to fulfill my duty. I left Dad in a whir and uttered something about being right back. I think he is getting used to my fretful forgetful moments.
The lovely gal in the restaurant, chatted away to me and I nodded and smiled. She nicely prepared the certificate. I thanked her and dashed out the door reminding myself not to toss the gift card into the depths of my delightfully lovely oversize, teal carry on bag.
I got to my car, pressed my keyless lock on my keychain. Nothing. I pressed it again. Still nothing. I noticed the time and looked around the parking lot for anyone who might be staring at a full grown middle aged nitwit talking to her key chain.
I tried the driver's side door, just incase it was already open and I didn't hear the familiar 'click.'
Wouldn't open. I went around the other side and did the same. Panic and confusion filled any available recesses of sanity and I wondered what to do next. Then a trickle of hope tickled my inner child as I remembered that there was a telephone number on my rear window. I would call and they would pop my locks.Suddenly I had a burst of sanity and my inner child whispered, "You dope...try the key in the lock first."
I fiddled with my keys and found the one that should have opened the door. I fiddled and tried the seven or eight keys on my chain. What was going on? None fit. I looked inside the car, and to my chagrin...I didn't recognize the tidy inners. The folded blanket. The dangling chain. I saw the neatly placed items in the little cup holders and realized that I'd just been trying to break into someone else's car.
I talked to my keychain once again and glanced around the parking lot. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone who might have spotted the strange lady trying to break into the car at the downtown restaurant.
Three cars over I spotted it. Another car just like mine with all the lights on, doors unlocked, the trunk ajar. It really was mine this time. I sheepishly meandered over, closed the trunk, slid into the driver's seat and buckled up. :)
I'm really hoping no one got me on video...small towns are great but I really don't want it to be official that I am going slightly cuckoo (yet.) Sigh.
