Of all the things I’ve lost …

… I miss my mind the most.

This week so far:

Tuesday: I was supposed to get blood work done. I forgot. I thought it was NEXT Tuesday. Still waiting for fall-out over that one.

Wednesday: Spent all afternoon waiting for The Socialist’s Aunt Artist and Uncle Oregon to call. They never did. I got home, and asked the Big S what was up, where were the guests? Found out I’d screwed up. They’re coming in NEXT Wednesday.

Today, Thursday: Getting ready to meet friends Friday night for the Bruce Cockburn show in Princeton. Found out from friend that the show is TONIGHT, not Friday. And I was the one who purchased the tickets and made the arrangements. The Socialist still doesn’t know that I’ve upset the apple cart. I dare not call him now – he’s still asleep and is very grumpy when he first awakes. I get the feeling that he’s going to be very grumpy anyhow when he hears this. I do not wish to compound grumpy with grumpier.

All those of you kind-hearts out there who are about to suggest I keep a date book or calendar to keep track of this stuff, don’t waste the electrons. I already do. There’s no defense against writing stuff in on the wrong date though.

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