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Monday, February 13, 2006

Cobwebs - the final word for now

I don't know if I mentioned my microwave experience to my former neighbor (my age) who moved to San Diego and now sends me jokes. I don't think so; however, I received her latest this morning. Here is an excerpt:

"Now that I'm older, my memory is not what it used to be. Also, my memory is not what it used to be."

Thanks Pat - I needed that.

Finally figured out what happened with the microwave because I ran into the same thing this morning sans cobwebs. I'm a creature of habit, especially when I first wake up. Pour coffee, open door, place coffee cup in microwave, push "minute plus" button. My daughter has the annoying habit of leaving time on the microwave instead of clearing it. One too many operations for me. I cleared it and couldn't remember what to do next. I was like the centipede who walked happily along for years until someone asked him how he did it. He got confused and fell into a ditch. That's me all over.


Uncle Roger said...

I have a friend (who publishes the newsletter for my computer user group and hosts a "game night" -- board games -- once a month) who says that now that he's getting older, (he's 85) he finds he's thinking about the hereafter a lot more.

He'll walk into a room, stop, and wonder... "Now, what was I here after?"

Congratulations on the Sun-Times quote! You're turning into a regular celebrity. Next thing you know, we'll see you in People magazine holding a barking football and drinking starbucks!

Baraka said...

Lovely story :)

I'm in my 30s & I already feel my memory sliding. It's an interesting sensation to say the least!


tatootim said...

Well Mom you know how bad I can be about remembering...

Granny said...

It's probably a chromosome defect Tim.

The absentminded Clark/Adams family.

Mary P. said...

When I was pregnant with my first, I remembered something I needed from the kitchen. I was in the living room. I walked from the living room to the kitchen. By the time I got there - yup, forgot what it was. Went back to the living room, because if you go to where you were when you thought of it, you might remember again. I remembered. I went back to the kitchen.

And forgot.

In my prenatal class, they called this "maternal amnesia", told me it would come back after the baby was born. Twenty years and two more kids later, I'm still waiting...