My brain is on hiatus. I know, at 52, my brain could be on permanent hiatus, but I certainly hope not. However, I sometimes think I am losing my mind. In my daily work, I type information that I have discovered in research on the internet. Sometimes, it is a phone number or an email address. Sometimes, it is compensation or education data or a physical address. More often than not, I have to look back at the 10-digit phone number at least 2-3 times, sometimes more, because I cannot store 10 numbers for more than 5 seconds.
What in the world.
I’m the one who worked at Ken’s Pizza and never wrote down orders because I could remember multiple pizza orders from three different tables in one trip around the restaurant before heading to the kitchen to write up a ticket for the doughboys at the ovens.
I’m the daughter who could remember a customer wanted $15 of premium in the tank, tire pressure at 32 all the way around including the spare in the trunk, the oil and transmission fluid checked and added if necessary, and “just the floor in the backseat vacuumed, please”, washed all the windows to boot, and then when the total was $17.32 and they handed me a $20, I made correct change WITHOUT the help of one of those fancy cash registers that does it all for you.
I am the teacher who taught K-12 music and played almost every piece by MEMORY at every program.
What has happened to my brain.
It has been two short years since I spent time with all of the kids in the youth choir at church, and this past Sunday, I couldn’t name half of them, even though I KNOW them.
This morning, Sam and I were walking down Main Street USA when a resident of this fine town stopped to talk to Sam about underground sprinkling. Casually, he mentioned Joe who lives on B Street in that house that has the big outbuilding and the roof that is slate and he’s the brother to Larry and they married sisters and his phone number is 555-1234 and if you have any questions you can call me at 555-4321 and I am the croquet coach over in Kville and the croquet buddy of Don over there in Kville…and I walked away with my brain in a tailspin. It’s the details, man, the details.
Yesterday, ‘Manda reminded me of a beta fish named Mr. Boss from high school choir days, and I have absolutely no clue what she is talking about.
I lie in bed at night and think of all the things, I mean ALL THE THINGS, and then want to slam my head into a wall in the morning trying to remember all the things that I should have written down or picked up my phone and recorded my list in the dark of night except that I don’t know how to do that and wouldn’t remember how if you told me.
My version of a smart watch
Don’t even get me started on the fact that six of our grandchildren are siblings and have names that begin with A… And many times when I think of one, I subconsciously go through the list until I hit the target name.
Aynjel, Andersyn, Anjalie, Annistan, Andrae, Anissa…exactly.
I am not a fan of my memory fade.
However, I AM a fan of grandchildren who pack themselves in a box and want to be shipped to Ama’s house.
I am not a fan of the USPS who won’t comply with their wishes.
However, I AM a fan of our friends who have come to small town USA to help us landscape and side a house and design a kitchen in hopes that someday our grandchildren will come and visit.
I am not a fan of a really nice air mattress that apparently has a leak now. It was an uncomfortable night.
However, I AM a fan of friends who come to visit and crack jokes about being invited to drive five hours to visit us and then are expected to work and then also make wisecracks about coming to a home with no place to sit.
I am not a fan of my once quiet home that was superficially dust-free now turned into a zoo of noise and activity and coated in a fresh coat of earth particles.
However, I AM a fan of corn chips. Especially at lunch time, while sitting around a dining table on the only chairs in this house, with friends who have driven five hours just to help us make our new home a little more inviting so that the other friends don’t have to work when THEY come visit.
Like I mentioned before, I am not a fan of recollection deficiency.
However, I am a fan of dressing and feeding myself. Those could be the next skills to go. I HAVE been known recently to wear my clothes backwards.
Bring on the kale and blueberries and snap shirts. I have arrived.