Why I am Listed
Why I am Listed
22 August 2013
When I was younger the whole ‘senior moment’ thing seemed pretty darn funny. Brain burp. Senior moment. Memory lapse. Yeah, well, not so much. I loaded on my phone a ‘find your car in the parking lot’ app because between the two of us, The Prince Consort and I forget to make a mental note on where the heck we park the $#%$%^ car. And since we have more than one car, sometimes one of us forgets and is looking for the wrong car. Okay, sometimes we both are.
Although our physician thinks lists make for lazy brains, we keep them. Lots of them. And sometimes we find them only hours after they would have come in handy in the store. Just last week, when the faucet in the master bath started to leak, TPC decided to take it apart and take the old leaky part to the hardware store rather than risk the old disappearing list trick.
So of course the one screw for disassembling the faucet stripped itself as soon as TPC got near it with a screw drive. Which left us with one choice and only a short list. We’d replace the faucet instead of fixing it. All we needed was the measurement for the holes. No problem. Short! List!
Thankfully when we got to the plumbing department they had a twin for our worn out faucet. Although I wanted a slightly different one. At least the twin’s box had the hole measurements printed on it so we could match everything up. Very fortunate since our one item list had gone missing.
I definitely should have made a list/notes last winter when my dental hygienist sent me home with a syringe to ‘flush’ the tooth with the pocket that needed to heal. (Yeah, lots of technical medical talk I must have tuned out.) After stabbing myself for two weeks, and spitting blood all over, I gave up on ‘flushing’. When I went back this week of course the pocket hadn’t healed. So my heroically patient hygienist showed me how to use the syringe without killing myself.
“WOOPS” I had been stabbing/flushing the wrong #$$%%^$ tooth! Tell me a detailed list taped to the mirror wouldn’t have helped.
This morning TPC and I got in Dude (our California native van) to go walk at White Hall Pond. Before he started the car, I jumped out of Dude saying I’d forgotten my cellphone. I’d run inside the house and be back in a flash. I was pretty proud of myself for remembering the phone before we got to the walking trails, before TPC started the van, and without a list.
Yeah. Proud until I stuck the key in the front door and noticed the cellphone was in the right hand pocket of my walking shorts. Yes, the ones I was wearing. What kind of list do I need to conquer this one?
Kath who finally remembered to get on the scales and has gained back seven of her hard lost pounds. So it’s back to weighing and measuring, and counting calories. Of course I’ll use the ‘My Fitness Pal’ app so I don’t lose the tally of calories in and calories burned.
If an app is the 21st c. equivalent of a written list, does that mean I’m going to lose my computer, iPad, and iPhone?